After the War
by rimshotstinger
Summary: Taking place after Aizen's defeat but before Ichigo regains his powers, Ichigo is forced to come to terms with growing feelings he never thought he'd have. IchiRuki main/ByaKarin mini-arc in chapters 24-31
1. Chapter 1

To anyone off the street, Ichigo Kurosaki was an open book: his bright orange hair and scowl warned everyone of his obvious delinquency, he likely had poor grades, no friends, and a lot of experience in fights.

The last part was true, but the boy was also bursting with secrets: he could see ghosts – or had been able to; he _did_ in fact have more friends than he could probably name, or name correctly; his grades were good, his family life wasn't in shambles, he had spent quite some time in the past as a _shinigami_, a monster, and finally a war hero, though he didn't like the title; he was in love with his best friend.

He kept all these secrets, but the last one he kept the best. He'd kept it from himself until very recently, but coming to terms with it hadn't put him at ease any.

Ichigo had never been in love before, and genuinely thought it was something he just wasn't interested in. He never felt the need for a girlfriend, or longed to even test whether or not he liked a girl, because dates as a concept made him uncomfortable. Maybe he was scared, but he wasn't going to tell himself that.

And how did anyone know when they were in love in the first place? If everyone started off having never been in love, how could they tell when it happened? If you thought about them a lot and wanted to be with them again, was that love? Or did you just miss them, and love was going to be more intense? How did you know this wasn't as intense as it was going to get? Not having a frame of reference was a pain in the ass, but it did allow him to decide that he missed her instead.

He had missed her, his best friend. Missing someone was okay, he'd missed people before. His mother, for instance, and nobody would think it weird to miss someone important to you if you didn't see them anymore. _Literally_ didn't see them anymore. He mused sometimes that she could be around without him realizing it, but he didn't like to think she'd not at least _try_ to let him know.

So missing was definitely okay, and for the first few months, that's just what he decided he did – _all_ he did. Merely missing her allowed him to think about her more freely, and often, than if it had been something more, which it certainly was not. The irony was lost on him that the rationalization he used to think about her was letting his mind do what his heart was telling him he wanted. Because he began to think about her more and more: first, only at home after school, but it wasn't long until thoughts of her pulled his attention away from classwork.

Except it was okay. He was only thinking about what would happen when they met again. If you missed someone, that's what you did, he knew. So he'd run it back and forth through his head. He plotted out all the things he'd say and predicted how she'd respond, and if he didn't like it he just backtracked a bit and retried it.

Then one time his imagination went to a very...odd place. He hugged her. Immediately he thought he'd accidentally taken it too far, but then, why should he feel guilty? Hugging was okay, especially if you hadn't seen the person in a whole year – and it had been that long. Yeah, he bet it was acceptable behaviour, so he let himself continue, because it was only platonic. Right?

With that settled, Ichigo was free to think about hugging his best friend all he liked, and again gave no thought to what he was slowly allowing himself to do. Sometimes they'd hug right off the bat, but then he'd be struck guilty by how manipulative he thought he was being to his dream-best friend and rewind it so that their friendly greeting ended on a hug instead. It started becoming very important to him where he placed the hug: if it was too soon, he might give the wrong impression (to himself? Or her? He guessed either.), but leave it until too late and it lost some of its meaning, didn't it? Like it was an afterthought. That wasn't okay for a friend behind a year's worth of missing.

Finding proper hypothetical hug placement became a sort of game, one he ended up liking. But then his dream-best friend threw him a major curve ball when she kissed him quickly on the cheek.

Jeez, was that okay? Why was he asking himself? It was _her _fault, she'd made the move. He mentally chided her forward actions instead of doing so to himself. If it was her fault, then he still only missed her. Being her friend, he let it slide the one time, then the next couple of times. She was clearly just overexcited. He couldn't really blame her.

Except soon it wouldn't stop ending that way, with a kiss. He never let it begin with one, that was just for couples, but it always ended with one. And he'd toy with it being as quick and shallow or as deep and passionate as he felt that day, and on some days he felt it should be the latter. Then _some days_ turned into _most days_.

By roughly the year-and-a-half mark, thought of kissing his best friend had become commonplace along with with hugging and heartfelt hellos in his little hypotheticals. Again, it was okay, because every day, they were apart a day longer, and he knew what they said about absence (though he mentally replaced _heart_ with _friend_). That being that, he could probably justify a peck on the cheek, at least. Maybe. Probably.

It wasn't until the day his friend Ishida had asked him if he had feelings for their mutual friend Inoue that things started getting weird. Of course, he quickly answered no, as simply as if he'd been asked if Byakuya Kuchiki was a party animal. He figured by the way the normally-composed and eloquent Ishida had reddened and stammered his way through the question that maybe he was interested in Inoue and was seeing if he'd be stepping on any toes. He wasn't.

After that, though, Ichigo's mind really went into overdrive about how easy it was to answer_ no._ So you knew for sure when you didn't love someone, then. Maybe _that_ was how you could tell if you did, by simple process of elimination. On a whim, he ticked off his female friends who easily came up _no_. Except there wasn't very many, and even after he'd lowered the criteria enough to shove in Rangiku-_san_ and Yoruichi-_san_ among others, he eventually had to come to his best friend: Rukia. He tried, hoping, for a simple_ no_, but what his mind let him have was _no?_

That sucked.

He really didn't want to be in love with anybody, much less _her_. He was never the kind of person who could see himself being lovey-dovey, or blushing like an idiot, or putting rings on any fin—

Anyway, he wasn't like that. Right? He'd been through enough weird changes in his young life to know when they were happening, though, and unfortunately, he had to admit they might be again. Possibly.

So he rolled over and tried to ignore them, hoping they would stop. He accidentally caught view of his alarm clock beside his bed, and realized how late it was. How long he'd spent thinking about her tonight. Against his better judgement, he allowed himself to step back and tally up the amount of time in the last week, month, year-and-a-half, that he'd spent giving her his undivided mental attention...

Shit.

No. Was that right? There had to be other things he'd thought about in that time. Come to think of it, what had the last few months of school even been _about_? Were his grades slipping? Had he even done any homework? When was the last time he hung out with his friends?

It scared Ichigo that he couldn't answer any of these questions with any degree of certainty. The only thing he knew for sure was that he'd been thinking about Rukia the entire. Damn. Time. He asked himself the question again. _No?_ He thought on it for a long time, maybe, until he'd exhausted his brain enough for sleep to creep up on him.

_No?_

Hours later, he awoke with a start, a nosebleed, and a full...head of questions. Why had he had a dream like _that_ about _her_? Was that the first time? He couldn't be sure, actually. But it was definitely the most intense time yet.

When it was clear his body wasn't going to calm down by itself, he got up, ran to the washroom and blasted himself with a very cold shower. After he'd gotten out, dried off and dressed, he faced himself in the mirror. He looked deep into his own eyes and searched for a real answer.

_No?_

_...Yes._

_Shit._

So here he was, a little over two years since he'd last seen his best friend. Who he was in love with, goddammit! He still kind of hated it, but at least he could focus on school now. Admitting it had its advantages. So long as he didn't need to admit it to anyone else, he guessed he'd be fine. He found himself half-hoping (but fully-not-expecting) that it might even go away as long as he never saw her again. But he didn't really want that to happen, did he? He wasn't sure. All he could be sure of was that he had to get to Urahara-_san_'s shop, for the first time in two years. He let out a breath, and kept walking.


	2. Chapter 2

Ichigo stopped dead a short ways ahead of the storefront of Urahara _Shoten_. His ears burned and his legs felt as if they were suddenly missing their knees. His jaw tightened up so quick that it actually ached, and when he opened it again, it popped.

Yoruichi-_san _was sitting on the little porch that came forward past the door of the store, with one leg dangling off its edge and the other bent, drawn close to her chest, with her elbow resting on the knee.

She was also wearing only lingerie. Stupid, sexy, ear-burning lingerie! In public! And she was _grinning _at him with those golden, cat-like eyes. Had she planned this? Just to make him uncomfortable?

He almost did an about-face and walked home. Both because he'd rather not give her the satisfaction of making him antsy and because he wasn't sure he could continue the rest of the way there without walking like he had arthritis. He was about to, but then, she was gone.

While he had been all up in his head, he guessed she'd gone inside, maybe to get Urahara-_san_, so he took a step forward.

And nearly slammed right into her.

_Oh, jeez!_

She was _right there_! _All of her_ was _right there_! Before he could be accused of staring he willed his eyes up from her cleavage, only to be met with something worse: her own, mischievous eyes. He hated her right now, or at least, he hoped it was hate he was burning up with. He didn't need this!

"Sh-sh-show some decency!" he commanded, not continuing to look her in the eyes, but instead looking off to the side. She responded by reaching up and putting her arms around his neck.

"Wow," she exclaimed, or rather, moaned. "You've sure grown up, Ichigo-_kun_," she said teasingly, or seductively, or whatever described what she was trying to do to him. "You're so _tall_" – she sang out the word. Then, she reached up to run a hand through his hair, gathering some up as she reached the base of his neck and tugging lightly. "And your hair is so _long_."

"Get off," Ichigo ordered, trying his best at sounding commanding and probably failing. He still didn't look at her.

"You could always push me away, _boya_," she teased. But that really wasn't an option. As it was, there was no conceivable way Ichigo could lay a hand on her without becoming far more acquainted with her than he would've liked. He'd just be doing what she wanted.

But he couldn't just keep standing there! In the street! He realized too late that he'd already spent far too much time letting this happen. Someone could see! He still decided against touching her, but maybe if he explained...

"Please, what if someone sees?" he pleaded. He tried just backing away, but she had a grip on his neck that did justice to her years as a close-quarters combatant. It was stupid that she was so petite yet so strong. Just like...

"Nobody's gonna see, you fool," she said, right in his ear. The goosebumps that erupted down his neck did so almost painfully. "I'm a spiritual being, normal people can't see me," she explained.

But wait, Ichigo could see her. Too much of her. But he'd lost his powers two years ago. How could he see her now? Maybe he didn't need to see Urahara-_san _after all.

"What? But then – how come – I thought –" he stammered. Thankfully, in his surprise, he'd apparently grasped her shoulders and pushed her to arm's length, so at least there was that.

Before he could compose himself better, Yoruichi turned her head to the storefront behind her and yelled "Hey! Kisuke! Kurosaki-_kun_ is here to see you!"

A second later Kisuke Urahara, looking as he always did, appeared in the door and sang "Ah, Karin-_chan_, I didn't expect to see you so s –" then choked on the rest of his sentence as his eyes bulged. "Ichigo?!"

Ichigo, thinking he knew why Urahara-_san _was so shocked, slapped his arms to his sides to avoid giving him the wrong impression with Yoruichi-_san. _

Wait, had he said "Karin"?

"Why didn't you say it was Ichigo?!" Uraharayelled at Yoruichi, whom he had run right up beside.

"Who'd you think I meant with that honorific?" Yoruichi spat back indignantly.

"I thought it was because Karin-_chan_ is kind of like a boy!" Urahara defended.

"Don't be stupid!" commanded Yoruichi, slapping him upside the back of the head. "Listen when I speak, fool!"

"Karin...?" Ichigo interrupted, and both of them stopped suddenly to look at him. "Karin...comes here?" he asked.

Urahara took on a sheepish look and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, yes. She's been seeing ghosts a lot lately and..." he explained, but Ichigo was hardly paying attention.

Had he been so obsessed with Rukia that he hadn't noticed _anything_ going on with his own family? School was one thing, but _this_? Ichigo felt like the worst older brother ever. He could have helped Karin if she needed it, especially with this, but instead she'd come to see Urahara-_san. _Because Ichigo had been so far away.

"Um...was there something you wanted, Ichigo?" came Urahara's voice, pulling Ichigo back into the moment. He stared at him for a long while before speaking.

"It's about my ability to see spirits. I was wondering if you could do anything to give it back, but..." he paused to examine Yoruichi. Urahara took notice of this and smirked, clapping Ichigo's shoulder.

"Oh, yeah. I invented a little something that allows certain people to see spirits within a certain distance of my store," he explained, and Ichigo's heart fell. He'd thought maybe his powers were slowly coming back. "I figured it'd come in handy someday," he mused.

"Oh..."

Urahara shook his head. "It's not within my power to restore your spiritual powers, Ichigo," he said solemnly.

"I don't need all of them back, just the ability to see spirits," Ichigo corrected, hoping doing only that much would somehow be more possible. "I don't need to be able to fight or anything."

Uraharalooked pensive for a moment, then came in beside Ichigo, hooking his arm around his shoulders, and led him into the store. It hadn't changed at all, of course, and he sat on the side of the small table opposite Urahara and Yoruichi. Urahara rummaged through a simple cardboard box before pulling out a pair of star-shaped, lime green sunglasses with pink lenses.

"I think these should do the trick," he said proudly, holding them up for Ichigo to see (as if they could be missed even miles away) and wiggling them a little.

Ichigo hit Urahara with the most deadpan expression he was sure he'd ever achieved. "I'm not wearing those."

Urahara looked hurt. "What's the matter? Ghosts don't care what you look like," he pouted. Then, suddenly, he dropped his head just enough so that the shadow of his hat's brim obscured his eyes, and grinned devilishly. "Unless...there's someone you're trying to impress."

Ichigo's heart raced.

"It's not that!" Ichigo said even as he felt his face warming. "It doesn't mean I wanna impress somebody just because I don't wanna look like a goof!" he asserted. But the damage was already done, he could tell. He felt it. His face was probably very red now, and Yoruichi was looking right through him with her piercing eyes.

Ichigo stood quickly and marched out of the store. "Forget it," he said, walking away. Why was he so obvious? He was supposed to keep this to himself so it didn't become something he couldn't handle!

Urahara watched from the doorway as Ichigo strode off in frustration. He sighed. That kid must be really serious of a little joke like that set him off. Urahara couldn't help feeling guilty.

"You're horrible," Yoruichi-_san _chimed in. "You shouldn't tease him like that, Kisuke."

"You're one to talk," Urahara replied calmly.

"That's different," she said. He knew it was true. This must be really important to elicit that kind of reaction from him.

"You know why he wants to see again, right?" Urahara asked his friend.

"Of course I do, fool," she said. After a pause, she continued. "Can you contact her?"

"Of course," said Urahara. "But is it the right thing for him right now?"

Neither of them could be sure.


	3. Chapter 3

Ichigo had his hands so deep in his pockets that he thought he'd put holes in the bottoms if he didn't relax. His face was still hot and he felt like everyone he passed stared at him as he went. Not that it was different from normal, being the kid with the bright orange hair and mean face.

He wasn't really mad at Urahara-_san_, he almost expected a stunt like that from him. But how could he have just lost his cool like that so quickly? Where was all his resolve? He huffed and quickened his pace, not sure where he was going, only knowing that he wasn't heading for home, not yet. If his family saw him like he was now, he didn't doubt that they'd put it together pretty quick. They had always been annoyingly suspicious whenever Rukia was in his bedroom.

It was a while before he noticed he'd made it away from any crowds. He was in some place with a lot of neatly-arranged trees, maybe a park. The point was there was nobody else around, and it helped him wind down from the state he'd been in earlier.

Then the wind rustled through the trees – but what came off the leaves was a sort of eerie hiss, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He pushed his first thought out of his head as soon as it came. There was no point being paranoid just because he couldn't sense spirits anymore. But as he walked, more slowly now, he couldn't shake his feeling of unease. His stomach felt cold and he shivered in the warm spring breeze.

It was an awful feeling not knowing when a Hollow was going to strike, or from where. He knew now that his instincts had to be right, but hated that he could do nothing about it. Helplessness sat as well with Ichigo has a bad flu. And as tense as he felt, he knew he couldn't make a run for it or the thing would pounce.

Shit! What could he do? Shit!

Why was it even after him? He didn't have any _reiatsu_ anymore, he was no different from anyone else. It seemed too coincidental that he'd be singled out. But who could be after him now?

Wait, Yoruichi-_san_! She was all over him before! She used to be a Captain, right? Her _reiatsu_ had to be enormous. He couldn't really remember though: when she was a cat it was probably well-hidden, and when he'd trained under _Sokyoku _Hill he was focusing a lot more on getting his own under control. And now he couldn't feel it at all, but he bet that was it. She and Urahara _Shoten_ were probably dripping with _reiatsu_, and he'd spent too much time around both.

He was going to _kill_ her!

He fought the urge to speed up, but sooner or later it was going to happen anyway. Even if he could run, where would he go? He was far from anywhere safe, and backtracking would just lead him into a crowd, and that meant collateral damage.

This was the –

Suddenly, all of Ichigo's breath pushed its way out of his mouth and he was empty. Fire filled the space where the air in his lungs had been – if there was space at all. They felt painfully flat, like sheets of paper in his chest, and he was pretty sure one was being scratched by a rib. Something was crushing his him, and he couldn't be sure if it was bile rising in his throat or his own organs, being pushed up like toothpaste from a tube.

Then he shook violently and felt himself fall. As soon as he hit the pavement, he pushed off and rolled away, then willed his vision to return. Not that it would be of any use, especially once he heard the thing. Its roar pressed against his ears until they ached, but it sounded pained, so at least something was hurting it.

The blackness before him opened up like the aperture of a camera, and he whipped around to see what was going on.

Ishida was letting arrows loose into the air before him, where they soundly stuck into seemingly nothing. He looked different – his hair was different. When had he changed it? Jeez, Ichigo didn't notice anything anymore.

There was another ear-splitting roar, then, nothing. The air around Ichigo seemed to relax like his own muscles, and the sense of danger left him. He shakily got to his feet and rubbed his chest.

"Hey...Uryu."

The Quincy let his arms fall, and the bow that had been in them melted away into the air. He touched his glasses and seemed about to speak, then stopped short. Ichigo realized he was looking right through him...

Was there another Hollow? Ichigo turned, and let his gaze linger on the spot Uryu seemed so interested in, but he didn't feel anything. So he turned back.

"Um...thanks, Uryu," was all Ichigo could think to say. Uryu just continued to stare at him – through him. He looked...surprised? Maybe seeing Ichigo so helpless was rattling more than just Ichigo himself. But that was no reason to look at him like this.

"...Kurosaki..."

Ichigo looked away. "Look, I'm sorry you had to do that...I guess I'll see you later." He started on his way home, to the clinic where he could get his chest looked at. Damn, it ached. He gave Ishida a wave without turning around as he left.

As soon as Ichigo was gone, Uryu returned his gaze to the spot behind where he had been. "It's been a long time...Kuchiki-_san_."


	4. Chapter 4

Rukia could do nothing but watch as Uryu riddled the ape-like Hollow with arrows. She had been prepared to step in and handle things in his stead, but she wasn't prepared for this...

For Ichigo.

She hadn't seen Ichigo for over two years, and now here he was, having just been dropped by the Hollow. She couldn't see his face since she was behind him, but it gave her a good vantage point for noticing his longer hair. It reminded her of when he'd returned from the _Dangai_ just before defeating Aizen. It looked good on him, just like last time.

Wait, stop.

An anguished shriek ripped through the air and brought her attention back to the Hollow, just as it began to disintegrate into nothingness. Was the fight over already? He'd distracted her _that _much?

He wasn't done yet. He got to his feet and – was he _taller_? Jeez, did he really need it? She didn't think she'd grown at all in two years, ageing as slowly as she did, which meant he towered over her even more than before. Just great.

Uryu's intent stare caught her attention. He was looking _right _at her, and Ichigo seemed to notice too, because he turned around to face her.

And it was all over from there. Two years of work, gone.

Rukia liked being a vice-Captain: the workload was enough to always keep her busy, which meant she was never bored. More importantly, it meant she never had time to think about Ichigo, which in the first couple of months since they'd parted, she'd done too much, she guessed. But with Captain Ukitake constantly succumbing to the physical stresses of his illness, Rukia was kept busier than most vice-Captains, and she revelled in it, for the vacation it gave her from her own mind.

Maybe it wasn't as bad as she thought, but she wasn't about to give herself an inch. She chose to bury herself in her new duties, and not only because finally having a sense of importance in her Division was a refreshing change. She knew that if she let herself start worrying about the now-powerless Ichigo, it would distract from her performance, and for Captain Ukitake's sake, she couldn't let that happen. It was certainly more practical to focus her energy on worrying about her Captain's well-being than...other people's.

She'd decided she was a bit of a worrier by nature: even in the days leading up to her execution years prior, she'd only thought about whether Ichigo and the others would survive their rescue attempt unscathed. That meant that she couldn't stop her worries, but she could redirect them. She would have to.

For a year-and-a-half, she'd done a fantastic job of it, she had to admit. She was as attentive a vice-Captain as anyone had ever been, never letting her Captain want for anything. If she gave it some thought, she might realize that she had strove so hard to be useful just to allow Captain Ukitake to depend on her, because if he did that, he'd need to keep her around all the time. Which meant no assignments in the Living World.

Not that vice-Captains got very many, but she didn't feel like playing the odds. So she worked herself ragged, but it was work, it was purposeful, and it was blissfully distracting. And by the time she finally did receive her first assignment as a vice-Captain in the Living World, she'd not even given any thought to it meaning she might meet Ichigo again. To be fair, she was only supposed to be there to keep an eye on Uryu.

Who could have predicted that Ichigo, being stripped of his powers, would be the victim of this particular Hollow attack? It was as if the universe was playing some cosmic joke on her.

Because as soon as he turned to face her, it all came rushing back. She hadn't realized it the entire time she'd been doing it, but by pushing aside all her thoughts of Ichigo, by not spending even a second to consider how he might have changed, she'd sealed her fate. For it, all at once, hit her like a tidal wave – her thoughts, her expectations, her feelings – as soon as she saw his face. It nearly knocked her off her feet, it was too intense. Her breath caught in her throat, and though she'd never thought she'd admit it, she was glad he couldn't see her, because she knew she was flush.

Why couldn't he have let his appearance slide more in these past two years? His father was a scruffy-looking sort of man, so he probably had it in him, right? Would it have been too much to grow some unsightly stubble in two whole years, or care about his hair only slightly less, so that it grew to cover those eyes of his and maybe jut out in more places so he'd look more slovenly? Sure, she'd cared for her new appearance, but she was a vice-Captain, she reflected on her superior officer. But he was _normal _now, he didn't need to fight anymore, so why keep in shape at all?

Unfortunately, he was just as...or, maybe, more...

She cursed herself. Maybe if she'd spent just a little time thinking about him every so often, she could have predicted these changes, or could have planned out some future encounter, so that she wouldn't be reduced to _this_. She immediately felt guilty about shoving him aside all that time, and she wanted to touch him, she wanted to let him know that she was there now, because maybe then he'd know that she didn't want to forget him. But she knew she couldn't, and the thought of it made her heart ache...with guilt?

Then he turned to go, and she had to consciously reverse the step she'd accidentally taken to follow him. She watched him go for as long as she could before Uryu's glare again got to her.

He touched his glasses. "It's been a long time...Kuchiki-_san_."

Oh god, she was blushing right now, wasn't she?

She took a deep breath and put on her best Kuchiki expression before responding. "Yes, it has."

"As you can see, I've got everything under control. There's no need for you to stay," he said simply. His words were clipped and his tone was rather cold.

"Captain-General Yamamoto has asked me to speak with you about exterminating Hollows," she began to explain, but Uryu just started to turn away. What was with him today?

"Kurosaki can't do it, so I have to," he said as if it were a matter of fact.

"But that's what we have a _Shinigami_ stationed in Karakura for, so you won't –"

"Then where was he?" Uryu interrupted, sounding more than a little annoyed.

Rukia didn't have an answer.

"You should tell your Captain, and your Captain-General if you like, that they should get their own affairs in order before acting like they can come to get everything under control here," he said venomously. He began walking away.

Rukia had had enough of this. She had been chosen to be the liaison in this situation specifically because she knew Uryu and could talk to him without upsetting him – or so they thought. She marched up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder...

He turned right around on his heel and slapped it away.

"Please leave now" – he eyed the badge around her arm with distaste – "_vice-Captain_."

Rukia clutched her stinging hand. "Uryu...what's wrong? Please, tell me," she begged.

He had already turned and continued on his way, but stopped, and without looking back at her, he asked "Tell me, vice-Captains, aren't they authorized to use _gigai_ when they come to the Living World?"

He already knew the answer. What was he getting at?

"Of...of course..." Rukia replied.

"I see" was all he said.

"What's this about?" Rukia pressed desperately.

"This is the first time I've seen you in over two years," he said. "Have you been here before now?"

"No," she answered truthfully.

"Was that on purpose? Or were you not allowed to come here until now?"

"What?"

"Or was it that you're constantly working without time off? If that's the case, I'd suggest putting in a request before you work yourself sick."

"Uryu, I don't –"

"I'm asking how many times you could have been here but weren't," he said harshly. "How many times did you purposely avoid coming here?"

None, she thought, that's how many. But it wasn't on purpose, it was perfectly understandable. She'd been too busy with work to...But she did take on a lot of other people's work in her Division too, but that was just to keep the Captain relaxed. She'd done the paperwork of three officers through the night more than once, but were Sentaro and Kiyone really going to get it done themselves with all the frivolous running around they did for the Captain?

"...I...was busy..." she started, saying it to herself as much as Uryu.

"So you didn't make time for your friends?"

"I..."

"Do you realize what your absence did to Orihime? To Kurosaki? Did you think about them for even a second?"

No. She hadn't. And that _had_ been on purpose. A lump started to rise in Rukia's throat.

"I know Orihime used to talk to you about things...about Ichigo. And when you left, you took something with you. And Kurosaki – he just shut down, and Orihime couldn't take it. She didn't know what to do – because you were always the one to snap him out of those sorts of moods. But you weren't around.

"And she tried so hard to get him to reconnect, but he was so distant, distracted. He stopped hanging out with Chad, and Chad stopped hanging out with us. And Orihime, it broke her _heart_ to see that happen to Kurosaki. Because she...But _I _could be there for _her_, just like you could have for Kurosaki. All you had to do was show up once and..."

Rukia felt a tear roll down her cheek, but the lump in her throat still choked any words she tried to say.

"But you didn't. Not once. You ruined everything."

Rukia was scared she might pass out. She couldn't breathe. She tried to do less than speak, just make any noise, a moan, but her throat was so dry it hurt, and nothing would escape it.

Uryu finally started once again to walk away. "Go home, vice-Captain of the Gotei 13," he said with finality. "You're no longer needed here." And with that, he was gone.

Rukia was alone. And it was all her fault.

When she finally managed to get a few much-needed breaths in her, she too turned to leave. Except she wasn't going home.


	5. Chapter 5

Rukia rather amazed herself at her familiarity with Karakura given two years of putting it out of her mind. Urahara _Shoten_ wasn't far now, and she'd be able to request a _gigai_ to be quickly made up for her. Urahara was definitely good at that sort of help.

She couldn't help but feel guilty about dilly-dallying here when her Captain might need her, but compared to the guilt she felt at having abandoned Ichigo, it was nothing. Besides, he had Sentaro and Kiyone.

Rukia nearly missed a step when she realized that she'd made her first ever rationalization for not only shirking on the work she prided herself on so much, but also for not attending to her Captain. Over the past year-and-a-half, those had become the most important aspects of her life – basically her _entire_ daily life – and she'd excused them away for the sake of Ichigo.

She allowed herself to stop for a second and bring a hand to her forehead in shame, though she smiled to herself too. What was that boy...man, doing to her already? She was becoming hopeless, and she'd only just seen his face. But for all she knew, her current feelings could simply be due to her own overactive sense of guilt. Along with being worrisome, she was ashamed to admit to herself her propensity toward feeling guilty. And again she was reminded of Ichigo's rescue of her years ago.

She sighed to herself; she didn't have time for this. She took up her former pace on her way to Urahara_ Shoten_. She wondered briefly if Urahara would be as...disappointed in her as Uryu had been. He didn't seem the type, but she would have said the same thing about Uryu himself until only minutes ago.

Thoughts of Uryu suddenly turned to thoughts of Orihime, and a new wave of guilt swept over her as she jaunted along. Should she visit her first? Wait, maybe she was trying to delay seeing Ichigo because –

Well, she guessed Orihime had Uryu now, right? She couldn't be completely sure, but the way he looked when he talked about her had tipped Rukia off to something that was more than friendship, or at least she thought. With that, she decided Ichigo was in more dire straits because, as Uryu had said, Orihime at least had him to comfort her. Had Ichigo really had no one all this time? Had he not reached out, and instead shut down, as she'd been told? She surprised herself by becoming newly guilty for a second time, and chuckled at herself rather solemnly.

Urahara _Shoten_ had not changed at all, and something in that gave her some comfort, as things seemed to be changing all around her now, and in ways she didn't like. She approached cautiously, and could feel that both Urahara and Yoruichi were inside. No doubt they sensed her too, and she wondered if she'd even need to call upon Urahara.

No.

Urahara was already stepping outside, clopping along in his familiar sandals. When he turned to face her, she was relieved to see he was wearing a smirk rather than a scowl. She slowed to a stop a few feet short of him.

"H-hello," she said softly, and immediately reprimanded herself for stuttering.

"It's about time you came to visit me, _Rukia-chan_," he said rather brightly, singing her name.

Rukia looked up, an eyebrow raised. "You were expecting me?"

"Why, of course," he answered, suddenly looking mischievous. "You never were far behind Kurosaki-_kun_, were you?"

"...Ichigo has been to see you as well?" she asked, ignoring her warming cheeks and hoping he'd do the same.

"Just today, in fact. Seems he urgently needs to see spirits again, the poor fellow," he explained.

"What?" asked Rukia, suddenly worried. Of course. "What for? Has he been in trouble?"

Urahara snickered and lightly tousled Rukia's hair, much to her annoyance. "You could call what he's been in _trouble_, I suppose," he teased. She wasn't exactly sure what he was teasing her about, but she knew the tone well enough.

"Please, Urahara-_san_...I need a _gigai_." As soon as she finished her request, Urahara's face broke into a wide grin.

"Is that so?" he asked mischievously. He reached out a long, thin first finger and lightly tapped the tip of her nose. "Well, I don't generally take special requests from high-ranking officers such as yourself. Do you have a good reason as to why I should provide this _gigai_?"

"I...must see Ichigo," Rukia explained, and when Urahara bared his teeth in amusement, she quickly added "He needs my help!"

"Oh?"

"...Uryu told me...he won't go to anyone else, so it – it has to be me," she said with resolve.

Urahara looked confused, or surprised, Rukia wasn't sure. "What exactly did Uryu-_kun_ tell you?"

Rukia explained what she'd been told: that Ichigo had become uncharacteristically mopey after he'd lost his powers, and only she could bring him back to his senses. At the end, Urahara let out a long sigh.

"Oh dear," he said. Now it was Rukia's turn to be confused. Had she misunderstood Uryu?

"Urahara-_san_, is there something else I ought to know?" she asked. Urahara didn't answer, but sighed again, removed his hat, and exasperatedly ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to be deeply contemplating his next move. It was a long while before he seemed ready to speak, but just as he opened his mouth, Yoruichi cut him to the quick.

"He's in love with you, you idiot!" she yelled from the storefront outcropping, looking very annoyed. Rukia wasn't sure how long she'd been listen –

Wait, what?!

Rukia strained to process what had just been yelled at her, but the news had numbed her mind. She simply sat there, perfectly still, unblinking, as she stared somewhere past Urahara.

When thoughts finally did decide to come to her, they did so in a rush. Ichigo? _Ichigo_? Had she even heard right? And if she did, what was she going to do _now_? She had just been planning to kick him in the head and let that do the work for her, but this...This made things much, much more difficult.

Had she been in a normal state of mind, she might have noticed Urahara as he loudly chided Yoruichi on revealing something Ichigo had the right to confess first, though he was less angry than embarrassed. She might also have been insulted at how Yoruichi defended her actions, which was by calling Rukia dense. However, she noticed neither.

Rukia was too busy working out a new plan. A desperate course of action that was sure to hurt, but would be the best for Ichigo in the long run: she planned to tell him, truthfully, that she did not return his feelings. It filled her with guilt, but she knew she didn't. Granted, she'd been taken aback by how handsome he'd grown over their time apart, but that didn't mean she loved him. It pained her, because the last thing she'd wanted to do today was hurt Ichigo, but...

But she was a vice-Captain of the Gotei 13, an essential part of the day-to-day workings of her Division, and more or less a caretaker of her own superior. It had taken two whole years before she was even sent back to the Living World, and there was no guarantee she'd ever return again. Yes, even if she did return his feelings, it wasn't as if they could be together.

Ichigo was moping because he couldn't see past her – because he _loved her_?! By making a clean break, she would undoubtedly hurt him, but in time he could move on, forget about her, find someone else. So long as he had the temptation of her possibly returning his affections, he would be stuck where he was forever. And she did not want that for him, her best friend. He might even hate her for what she was now planning to do, but that would only make it easier to get over her, right?

Oh, god, this was going to be terrible. Could she even –?

"Rukia-_chan_?" Urahara's voice rang out, bringing her out of her head. As Rukia blinked at him, she fought back the tears that almost formed. Years spent under the wing of Byakuya as a proper Kuchiki made that, just barely, possible.

"...Will you make me the _gigai_?" Rukia asked, her stare vacant, her voice hollow.

"Yes."


	6. Chapter 6

For the fifth or sixth time since she'd left Urahara _Shoten_ in her new _gigai_, Rukia paused to ask herself if she could really go through with what she was planning. She had been almost positive her plan wouldn't even get this far along – her chest had been so tight by the time her _gigai_ was finished, that she'd genuinely considered the possibility than once she entered it, she might very well suffocate and pass out.

She was seriously considering the upsides of being passed out right now. At least her chest wouldn't ache so much, or her hands, which she had balled so tightly into fists that they pulsed painfully, just to stop them shaking. Maybe she'd have more time to think about how she was going to say what she needed to...or to come up with reasons why she shouldn't.

_No_, she thought, _stop._ She was just trying to back out because she was afraid of...well, she wasn't sure exactly. Maybe being yelled at? Except Uryu had already done that, and though it still stung, she'd been able to push past it. She thought maybe she was scared that he'd hate her, but she really couldn't seem to convince herself that it wouldn't be a good thing. Sort of.

She'd almost feel better if he ended up hating her, because then she would know for sure that she wasn't holding him back any longer. He would be free to meet someone new, someone he could be with whenever he wanted; someone he could actually take on dates, and spend Christmas with, and kiss...

As she started once again to walk, slowly, towards Ichigo's house, she let her mind wander onto the subject of what kind of girl she could see doing those things with Ichigo. Maybe if she could think of what lie ahead for him after all this ugliness was done with, she'd have the courage to actually go through with it. Though she felt guilty about it now, she'd always seen Ichigo has the type of person who was completely uninterested in things like that. Sure, he'd gotten a little hot under the collar when Rankigu undid a button on her uniform, so it wasn't like he didn't have it in him, but it never seemed like something he'd willingly bring upon himself. But after what Yoruichi-_san_ had said, anything seemed possible.

Which meant there were a lot of possibilities for Ichigo to be happy without her, right? That was good. Her mind went to work putting together different types of girls to pair him up with on different kinds of outings, and watched as each one made him laugh, held his hand, stroked his hair, made him happy. It was encouraging to know that he might be able to forget about Rukia, but each time a new potential replacement cropped up, no matter how sweet they were or how happy they made him, there was one thing that kept going wrong...

She hated every one of them.

Why hadn't she just stopped after the first one? She seemed nice, and was as cute as Rukia had allowed her to be, and yet she'd come up with a whole string of them – because by the end of the date each of them, for some reason, lost all of their promise. Maybe there was something wrong with Ichigo if he couldn't seem to like a girl who wasn't completely unlikable. She smirked humorlessly at that, because if she counted herself among that group, she was certainly on her way to fitting that description, with what she planned to do to him.

But she was only doing it because she cared about him – as his good friend. And that was good, because if she wasn't just looking out for him like any friend would, people might assume she was jealous of those imaginary girls. But really they were all just wrong for him; anyone would be able to see that.

Seeing as jealousy was not the issue, she realized that these strange girls were clearly the problem. Why hadn't she seen it before? Ichigo was a noble type, clearly he wouldn't just fall for just anyone off the street. He'd somehow fallen for her, right? So he'd probably choose a girl he already knew well as a friend. Except none of them seemed like a right fit for him either.

Orihime's breasts were just too large. She wasn't sure why that mattered to Ichigo, but she wasn't going to argue with his personal taste; Tatsuki_-san_ seemed more his type, except she was too tall; the other girls from school were no better: none of them would have the guts to give Ichigo the kick in the head he'd undoubtedly need at some point. Unfortunately for Ichigo, the list of candidates was getting pretty thin.

By the time she was nearly to his house, Rukia had become rather worried about Ichigo's prospects post-heartbreaking. Again she thought that maybe she'd made the wrong decision, but what else could she do? She supposed that, maybe, she could just leave and wait for her to pass from his mind with time...

_No!_

It immediately seemed wrong, but why? Who said that she needed to be the one to be the bad guy and put herself, or rather, _him_, through this? She could just let it go, let time take its course, and let him just fall out of love with her and find someone new on his own, without her giving him permission –

Wait, is that was she was doing? Was she planning on _letting_ him stop loving her, by giving him no other choice? If that was true, then why not let distance and time just do it for her, and save herself the trouble? Why was she forcing herself to do this?! If she really was worrying herself sick over being hated, then why even put herself through this at all?!

Suddenly, she tripped, but hardly noticed, because she was too busy coming face to face with the truth that had come to her – or maybe it had always been there. Either way, she found herself wishing it hadn't, and not because it had caused her to scrape a knee.

The thought of being hated was a lot less scary than the thought of being forgotten. Being hated was _something_.

By going through with her plan, Rukia wasn't being fallen out of love with, she realized, she was being made unattainable. By choice. But if she didn't do it, if she simply let him be, then she was _losing_ his love rather refusing it. If she _chose_ not to accept his love, that meant he would be _forced_ to find someone else out of loneliness or desperation, not because he loved them and not her.

She hadn't been doing this for Ichigo. It was all for her.

Her shallow, hitching breaths were telling her she needed to cry, but her learned Kuchiki instincts told her otherwise. Her throat itched with a moan she couldn't release as she stared blankly down at the sidewalk on her hands and knees.

For the second time that day, she felt like the worst best friend anyone had ever had. First she'd tried to forget about him, and now she was trying to manipulate his feelings, just so _she_ wouldn't lose his love?

And why did she want it? Was she so self-centred that the thought of being the object of someone's affection was enough to do this to her?

The possibility would have made her sick if she hadn't already known the answer, once again.

But it wasn't fair! She had done her best! She'd tried so hard and spent so much time forcing out of her waking mind the thing she wanted more than anything but didn't want to want, and couldn't have. But she could do nothing to stop from dreaming of it: of a hero who looked upon her as if she was less than special, but sought to reclaim her – despite insurmountable odds – as if she was precious; of a champion who inspired such unconditional faith that she would believe without a doubt that he could do the impossible – and then he'd do it.

Of a friend, who made her feel safe when the world seemed against her.

It didn't matter if she'd lost all her strength, because he was strong and could carry her, so it was going to be okay. It didn't matter if a phoenix came rushing to destroy her, because he was tough and was coming to defend her, so it was going to be okay. It didn't matter if a ghost from the past had made her doubt herself, because he was faithful and believed in her, so it was going to be okay.

But it mattered that he loved her as much as she loved him, because it was never going to be okay.

She got up only because she could do nothing else, she was in the street, after all. She meandered without thinking as everything she'd spent years denying suddenly filled her up, yet left her strangely empty. Her legs seemed to work of their own accord, and she half-wondered if Urahara had made this _gigai_ that way, but didn't fully care. That is, until she came upon Ichigo's house.

Oh.

Now everything was upside-down and she felt sick. When it had been the truth, telling him that she didn't love him had been a form of merciful release, but now that she knew it had been a lie, saying it would only hurt them both needlessly. Yet she couldn't tell him the truth either, because she knew they couldn't be together, so it would only make things harder. At the end of her rope, and feeling on the edge of madness, she decided that she couldn't see him after all.

But she could _see_ him.

She found herself sitting on a tree branch beside his bedroom window with little recollection of how she'd gotten there, though it didn't really matter. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall without focus, looking both painfully bored and intensely sad. And the urge to jump through his window was too much! She wanted to touch him and hold him and for once, she wanted to be the one to make _him_ believe that it was going to be okay. She ached for it, and the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears deafened her to all other thoughts. So she gathered up all her courage, told herself she was making the right decision, and jumped...

...back down to the sidewalk below. She couldn't do this to him, or herself.

She was going home.


	7. Chapter 7

Rukia couldn't help feeling like a square peg shoved into a round hole as she tried to slip back into routine. Before, her routine had been built on the foundation of forgetting about Ichigo so she could work, but that had crumbled beneath her, and she feared her Captain was paying the price for it.

To her credit, she still did everything he asked without question, but at times she'd be so distracted that what he asked didn't become clear until two or three repetitions later. She continued to surmount a small corporation's worth of paperwork, though to her great embarrassment, she'd more than once accidentally scrawled the wrong name before she noticed and had to scratch it out.

Ichigo's name. God, was she some schoolgirl?!

The past week had felt like her very first week as vice-Captain all over again, but it was worse, because now she knew better. Captain Ukitake, understanding as he was, didn't really seem to mind little mistakes like the ones she kept making, but the standard to which Rukia was holding herself was vastly higher in comparison to his. She'd hoped that, with time, Ichigo would become as easy to push aside as she thought he'd been the past two years. No such luck. Every day just made her miss him more. And every night, she'd lie awake thinking of him, because it made her feel better, but refusing to sleep, because dreaming of him would only increase the longing. And she _would _dream of him, with agitating consistency now.

And aside from her Captain, her brother, and the Ichigo that invaded her dreams, nobody registered with her anymore. They could be talking right to her face and she still wouldn't hear what they said, or be able to pick them out of a crowd only seconds later. She guessed this was what Ichigo had been like for the entire two years they were apart, and she found a painful new sympathy for Uryu. Even Sentaro and Kiyone became nothing more than a distant hum of nonsense.

"What?" she asked, suddenly snapping out of her daze when Rangiku knuckled her in the forehead as punishment for being spacey.

"The Women's Association meeting," Rangiku said – or, rather, repeated, she guessed. And what about the meeting? Had there been ever _more_ before that? Rukia was rather afraid to ask that Rangiku-_san_ backtrack that far. Her forehead still stung.

"I don't think I can attend," she said, as it seemed safer than pressing for further information.

"What? Why not?" Rangiku pouted, sounding quite disappointed. Why? It wasn't as if she and Rukia were very close. She'd only ran into her after work on her way back to the Kuchiki estate and been led into this place – a tavern, or a club? – because she'd not been paying enough attention to stop herself. Where was this place, anyway? And what sweet scent burned at her nose? She looked down.

What? Had she ordered a drink, or had it been Rangiku-_san_? What was it, even? She peered directly down into the glass to determine if it was a safe-looking colour and –

Goodness, were those her eyes?! Had she gone to work looking like a raccoon and not even noticed? She saw a light blush appear on the face of the tired-looking girl in the...liquid.

Come to think of it, she hadn't been getting much sleep lately, and any she did get was rather...restless. She silently cursed Ichigo for becoming so damned handsome in just two years away from her, as if he'd been holding in all these extra good looks to break out and surprise her with right when she had her back turned...

Rukia's head jerked up at the sound of Rangiku snapping her fingers twice in quick succession. She was met with a very stern expression, one she was surprised the fair-featured vice-Captain across from her could even pull off.

"Hey, _you_ were the one who said you'd drink with me," Ranguku whined. Rukia knew that was a lie, but decided against disputing it. Rangiku heaved a heavy sigh, drawing even Rukia's eyes to the conspicuous movement of her equally conspicuous chest. Why had she not roped some rookie unseated officer into coming with her instead, with persuasive arguments such as _those_ at her disposal?

"I apologize, Rangiku-_san_," Rukia said into her glass of...into her glass. "I'm afraid I haven't been sleeping well recently," she confessed.

"Idiot," Rangiku said as she leaned across the table and ringed the rim of Rukia's glass with her finger. "That's what the drinks are for!"

Dear lord, Rukia shuddered to think what would happen with Ichigo in the dreams of a liquor-addled state of mind. Shuddered and felt kind of warm. Very warm. But they had been innocent enough so far, and she intended to keep them that way. That was all the reason she had not to take even a sip.

"No thank you, I don't want to become a handful for _Nii-sama_," she lied, pushing the drink toward her compatriot. Her eyes flickered anxiously from the offering to Rangiku, for she very much wanted to see if it actually _was_ drinkable.

Rangiku shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, lifting the glass and draining it in one go. She let out an excited sound as she placed the empty glass back on the table, and her cheeks lit up bright pink. She giggled. "Oooh, _Rukia-san_, you've got some hardcore tastes!" she said a little too loudly. Rukia resisted the urge to scan around to see if anyone had turned their attention to Rukia-the-hardcore-drinker.

"I think I had better go," Rukia said, rising from the table. Rangiku caught her arm surprisingly tightly.

'Nuh-uh, _Rukia-san_!" Rangiku said severely. Rukia might have sat right back down out of intimidation, had Rangiku's eyes not been cloudy and half-lidded.

"Rangiku-_san_, I –"

"Whussup? Why ya leavin' me in such a hurry?" Rangiku's eyes suddenly darkened with suspicion, or knowing. "Is it a guy?" she asked slyly. Rukia hoped it was only suspicion.

"That's...that's not it...I just..." Rukia stammered. She let out a breath. "It's...not a guy," she lied.

Rangiku's eyes widened for a half-second. "It's not a girl, is it? 'Cause you cut your hair so short, and you always act so tough, I didn't know if –"

"NO!" Rukia bellowed, going red – redder. She expected another shockingly stern look, but instead Rangiku began shaking with contained laughter, then exploded into loud guffaws.

"Relax, Rukia-_chan_," Rangiku said as she calmed down, tugging at Rukia's sleeve to try to coax her down again. She smirked. "I know it's...not a girl."

What was that pause? Did she...?

Without really noticing, Rukia reclaimed her seat.

"Rangiku-_san_...have you ever been in love...with..." _you're best friend _"...anyone?" _One step at a time._

Rangiku's eyes seemed to clear a little at that, and took on a profound sadness, which made the smile she still wore seem very pained. "I suppose, you could say I have," she admitted quietly.

"How did you know, for sure?"

As she spoke, Rangiku watched herself ring her finger around the rim of the empty glass. "Lots of reasons...My heart would speed up whenever I looked at him...I thought about him all the time...And whenever he was gone I was very lonely..." Suddenly, she stopped, and looked Rukia straight in the eyes. "But you already know about all that stuff, don't you?"

Rukia felt her throat try to close. "I...well, that is..."

"Bah! Don't be so embarrassed," Rangiku hissed through a knowing grin. "Ichigo is a real catch, you know."

"R-Rangiku-_san_, I think maybe you've had too much to drink," Rukia suggested, unable to meet Rangiku's prying eyes.

Then Rangiku took up Rukia's face between her thumb and first finger, squeezing her cheeks gently so that her lips puckered slightly against her will. "Don't lie to me, Missy!" she said indignantly. "It's cute that you think it's a secret, but I know the eyes of someone who's fallen for her closest friend..."

Rukia shook her head, even as a tear escaped her eye and rolled onto the tip of Rangiku's thumb. She willed that no more should fall, but after a week of keeping everything inside, her body no longer seemed interested in listening to her. Rangiku removed her hand, and Rukia thought it was probably to keep it from getting soaked. She swiped furiously at both cheeks and bit back a cry that had slithered up her throat. She felt Rangiku gently place a hand on top of her head.

"I can't see him, Rangiku-_san_!" Rukia moaned as quietly as she could, her voice breaking. "And it hurts!"

"Then go see him," said Rangiku simply, in a soothing tone.

"I can't! I know I can't!"

"That's silly..."

"No! Because I know that if I go to him, I won't want to come back! I'd only be hurting us both if I –"

"You're being ridiculous," Rangiku cooed.

"I can't! I can't ever see him again!" Rukia insisted.

"You're wrong..." Rangiku replied in a hollow tone.

"Please don't say that, Rangiku-_san_!" Rukia pleaded. "I know that we can never be together..."

Rangiku's grip on Rukia's hair tightened suddenly, and Rukia winced out the rest of what had been a sob. "And I'm saying _you're wrong_!" Rangiku hissed at her, fixing her with her best glare of the evening through watery eyes.

"You're wrong, Rukia-_chan_. _I _can't ever see _my_ love again! _We're _the ones who can't ever be together!" She shoved Rukia roughly, letting go of her hair. "_You_ have a chance, and if you waste it, I'll never forgive you, Rukia!" Tears streaked down Rangiku's face.

_Rangiku-san_...

"So stop complaining to me and go!" Rangiku commanded as she wiped her cheeks with the heel of her hand.

Rukia's voice was barely a whisper. "But I'm scared, Rangiku-_san_."

"Then go be scared together" was her stern reply.

"I know it can never work out..."

"Then go fail together."

"It would never be allowed."

"Then go be outlaws together."

"...We won't last...We can't."

"Then go spend the last of it together."

Together. Together with Ichigo...could she do it?

She wasn't sure, but she _was_ already standing up. She looked down at Rangiku, who was still staring solemnly at where Rukia had been sitting.

"Rangiku-_san_..."

"Don't worry," Rangiku said as one corner of her mouth turned up ever-so-slightly. "I'll pay for your drink." Then she locked eyes with Rukia one last time. "But you owe me one," she said.

Rukia could only nod. And then she left, into the uncertain night.


	8. Chapter 8

_Okay...Now!_

No use, Ichigo remained still in his bed, just as he had the last thirteen times. He blew out a breath and palmed his forehead hard. What was wrong with him?! What could be so hard about getting up and seeing Urahara-_san_ again?

He no longer cared if it was stupid glasses, or anything else, but he knew Urahara-_san_ could help him, somehow. He was probably in contact with her, or could be, and if not...well, he'd made whatever it was he'd made that let Ichigo see Yoruichi-_san_, right? Even if Ichigo had to wear some dumb-looking, heavy contraption on his head to make it work, he'd do it. This past week had shown him that.

The Hollow attack had only served to stir up memories of his first days with Rukia, and he continued his habit – hobby? – of thinking about her with renewed intensity. But now he knew just what it had been doing to him, to those around him. He hadn't noticed before that he'd gotten quieter, less focused, and flaky until last week, and now it really bothered him. He knew he should talk to Karin, and his friends, but that wouldn't fix what was happening – it wasn't as though he could tell _them_ what was going on. No way! So it would only make things worse if he gave them some stupid excuse then went right back to doing it anyway.

No, he had to see her, confront her, to see if that would fix him.

The hard part about that was telling Urahara-_san_. Telling him _that_, who it was. Ichigo could feel his throat start to close just by thinking about it. He'd finally admitted it to himself, but he didn't think he was ready for others to know – _definitely _not Yoruichi-_san_. She'd never shut up about it! And what if his dad found out? He and Urahara-_san_ had talked before, he could find out. Fed up with this train of thought, Ichigo groaned and flipped over to bury his face in his pillow.

Being in love sucked. Half the time he didn't even _want_ to see her. He hated what was happening to him now, but he bet it would get worse if he let himself give in to it. He didn't want to become some love-sick puppy, a big goofball like his dad. And Byakuya, love had ended up turning him into an icicle. Ichigo didn't want either of those things. He'd changed enough already, as far as he was concerned.

She probably wouldn't even like him if he became some clingy, lovey-dovey jackass. And he _cared_! He cared what she thought! He thought back to the time when he'd met her on _Sokyoku_ Hill, when he'd told her he was ignoring all her opinions about being rescued. He wished he could do that again, about her liking him. He didn't like being swayed by that. And what if she ever found out? God, she'd be the worst little tyrant ever. She might even force him to look at her awful drawings on penalty of pouting!

And that'd probably be enough to _make him do it_! Ugh!

He rolled back over, sat up, and winced. His hand darted to his ribs, but it felt like he'd just knifed them. Goddamn. His dad had done a good job bandaging him up, but it still hurt like hell. He saw a shadow fall across the light streaming in through his open window and turned to look –

And she was right there.

* * *

Oh no. No no no no no. Why was he like that? How could she do this now? How could _he_ do this to her? Seriously, was it on purpose?

His shirt was off!

He was looking right at her all...like _that_, with that expression, and was completely shirtless. Sure, he had bandages on, but they were wrapped really tight. Was it really all she could do to stare at him like this? Where was her Kuchiki sense of proper behaviour when she really needed it?!

It was completely different from that time he'd looked at her before, because it hadn't really been _at her_ so much as in her direction. By accident. But now he could see her as well as she could see him, and suddenly she felt very self-conscious. She was suddenly very aware of the haircut she'd gotten since he'd last seen her, one that Rangiku had implied made it look like she was...But she was only joking. Right?

Her face was the real issue, though. It felt like she had a sunburn. The only reason she wasn't worried about sweating was because it would just evaporate right off her face immediately. She must have been as red as...as...

...as red as he was?

Oh. Wow.

She shook her head. It didn't matter that he was so red. _So _red. He might not know that, all he would know for sure is how red _she_ was. She wanted to hide her face in her hands, but her arms were so stiff that they ached. If she tried to lift them now they might just snap right off.

She found herself wondering how she had even gotten this far: how she'd worked up the courage to ask her Captain to let her go, how she'd asked Urahara for her _gigai_ back, how she'd made it all the way back here...if she was just going to end up like she was now. She was inconveniencing her Captain to be here! She was compromising her whole Division, and for what? Just to stand here like an idiot and do nothing?!

No, she remembered what she had come to do, even though she didn't want to. _Spend the last of it together_, that's what Rangiku-_san_ had said. And it was going to be the last today, because of her. It had taken her all night to decide what exactly the words meant, but in the end, with a heart that felt like lead, she accepted that she had been right the first time.

She and Ichigo were never going to work out anyway, and if she confessed to him, all it would do is leave him wishing for something that was impossible. So this would be the last. She'd tell him she didn't love him and leave him with no hope of anything happening. But at least it would only be false hope she was taking away. False hope was far worse than none at all.

Because she loved him, she had to tell him she didn't. After that she could run home and cry her eyes out until the sadness passed and all she have left would be guilt. It might be tough, but she'd carried her share of guilt all these years from killing Kaien. She'd become quite skilled at it. Guilt she could handle. It might take some time, but she'd work her way back to being a first-class vice-Captain again, albeit an incredibly guilty one.

And Ichigo would find someone else. He would be happy, with someone else. But at least he would be happy.

_I'm sorry._

* * *

Oh god, what had she done to her hair? It was so...too much. Was it cute? Was he allowed to think that, about her? Why hadn't he expected her to change? It'd been two years, after all. And those slips she wore over her arms...why did he suddenly see himself pulling them off with his teeth?

Jeez, what was his deal?

Wait, a vice-Captain's badge?

Sense enough to stand had just returned to Ichigo when he saw Rukia suddenly fall into a crouch. For a second he was worried she was hurt...until she came sailing through the window straight at him!

The top of her head hit Ichigo square in the gut, bowling him over, and they landed, together, on the floor. He sat up so fast he almost bumped foreheads with her: she was right on top of him, her hands on his chest. On his _bare_ chest. Well, half on bandages, but it was more than enough.

All they did was stare at each other for a long time without saying anything, that is, until Isshin opened the door in a rush.

"What's wrong, Ichigo?! What –?" he stopped, wide-eyed. Then the surprise on his face melted away into what looked a lot like anger. It was the second-most serious expression Ichigo had ever seen on his dad's face.

Then the door slammed shut again, and Ichigo heard his feet pattering hurriedly down the stairs.

"Hey! Don't just shut the door like you're interrupting something!" Ichigo yelled after him, but with no luck. The next sounds he heard downstairs were his sisters squealing.

"Come on, girls!" Ichigo heard his father say, loudly. "Daddy's gonna take you out for ice cream! Let's go!" he bellowed, stretching out the word _go_ until Ichigo heard the front door slam shut. The way Karin and Yuzu had screamed, it was pretty obvious that his dad had picked them up and literally carried them out.

Ichigo swallowed hard as he turned back to Rukia, who was still staring into him with those big violet eyes. They were glistening now.

"Why?" she asked in a shaky voice. He couldn't speak, not yet, so he just raised an eyebrow in confusion. "WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO AND FALL IN LOVE WITH ME, FOOL?" she screamed as the tears that had welled up in her eyes poured out.

"H-hey, don't ask dumb questions like that so suddenly!" Ichigo roared back, blushing furiously.

She looked about to go another round, but the only thing that left her mouth was a kind of anguished whimper. She dug her fingernails into his chest – and it hurt! – but he didn't let the pain show. Something was seriously wrong.

"I'm sorry Ichigo..." she barely-whispered. She looked down at his chest now instead of meeting his eyes.

Ichigo huffed. "Rukia, that's okay. I'm not that mad, okay? Let's just –"

"I don't...love you, Ichigo. I don't. I'm sorry." Her tone was dead.

Oh.

* * *

Rukia waited for the yelling. She had done it, and having the Ninth Espada's _zanpakuto_ put through her chest felt like a pinprick compared to what it was doing to her heart, but she'd done it. It was over now.

Almost. Ichigo was dead quiet, and she knew it was the calm before the storm. A storm she'd called upon herself, and which she would weather until the end. She had accepted it, but that didn't make the wait any easier.

Maybe she needed to face him. She hadn't been able to tell him such an obvious lie to his face, but he probably needed to see her face now to get the satisfaction of telling her off. She held her breath as she quickly brought up her head.

Ichigo was wearing a smile, a weak one, betrayed by eyes so filled with sadness that she could hardly believe they were Ichigo's. But why was he smiling?

"Okay," he said.

Oh god, she was dreaming, wasn't she? She'd fallen asleep without realizing, and it was still the night before she was going to break Ichigo's heart, and she was still curled up in her bed. It made sense, she'd gotten almost no sleep in the last week, and of course Ichigo was _always _there when she did. And it had been all she could think about as she lay in bed hugging her knees to her chest. Dammit. And she'd thought it was finally over. Dammit!

_Wake up!_

Ichigo's warm hand found her shoulder. It felt so real she almost believed that he'd really said...

"It's okay, Rukia." She blinked, but he was still there. She blinked three more times, but he wouldn't disappear.

What's going on?

Had she just said that, or only thought it? All she knew was that she'd heard it.

"Rukia..." Ichigo seemed to back out and rethink what he was going to say, then sighed. "I'm new to this. I'm not very good at it. But...but I know it's not something you can choose for yourself, and I don't think it's something you can choose for someone else either."

He was talking about love?

He looked off to the side and chuckled only a bit. "I'm not going to selfishly ask that you return my feelings just because it would be convenient. Hell, I didn't even want to have them in the first place. So how could I get mad at you for doing what I couldn't?"

"...What you couldn't?" Rukia echoed before she could stop herself. Ichigo returned his gaze to hers and tightened his grip on her shoulder.

"You're lucky, Rukia. Being in love, it's...not always a comfortable thing. But I couldn't stop myself from doing it...I guess I'd be a real spoiled brat if I got mad at everyone who did something I couldn't, right?" he asked, scratching the tip of his nose with the first finger of his free hand.

"But I..."

"I got to see you," he said, and Rukia's words caught in her throat. "I got to see you, and that's good enough," he lied. "At least I got that much."

Was he seriously trying to look on the bright side of being _rejected_? Jeez, just how noble could one person be?! He was making it very hard to keep up her lie. Why couldn't he just yell at her like a normal person?! She had to go. This was done. If she stayed any longer she might say something they'd both regret. Not that she hadn't just done that.

"Ichigo, I'm sorry..."

"Okay" was all he said. Not even_ it's okay_, just_ okay. _

"...I'm sorry...I'm a bad liar."

If Rukia had wanted to find herself out the window by now, how she'd gotten her lips pressed against Ichigo's was a complete mystery to her.

* * *

Ichigo couldn't stifle the sound he made in the back of his throat as Rukia repositioned herself – sliding her arms up and around his neck and coming to sit on his lap. It seemed to signal her that it was time to stop, because she pulled away, but only enough to cock her head to the side and come back even harder.

He also couldn't help but kiss back. It was also new to him, but he guessed that didn't matter once it was happening. Again and again. Each time their lips found each other, they did so harder, but stayed together for less time. It had started with one long kiss, and now they were peppering each other's lips with them. And it felt great.

Ichigo repositioned his hands on the floor so that he had better leverage, but nearly fell over when Rukia, still assaulting his lips with butterfly kisses, grabbed his left hand and placed it on the small of her back. It felt stiff and clumsy and he let it slide off a moment later, during a blissfully long kiss.

Rukia put her hand on his again, but didn't try to move it. Instead she started talking.

"Ichigo...you have...to relax," she panted in between kisses.

Ichigo pulled away to look at her, and she let out a small whine in her throat. "If I put my hands on you...I won't be able to relax," he said shyly.

Rukia looked confused as her eyes searched his. Then they suddenly fell on his lap. His face became so hot that he felt safe in knowing that most of his blood was probably there right then. Rukia's eyes jumped back up to meet his again. Her cheeks went rosy. "Ichigo! Were you having perverted thoughts just now?" she asked, sounding altogether accusatory, indignant and excited, though her expression only said indignant.

"Shut up, don't say stupid things!" Ichigo defended as he tried to look away as if he was nonchalant.

"Ichigo, that's so unlike you! I don't know if I can –" to shut her up, Ichigo surprised her with another kiss, but moved his tongue across her lips before it broke off. It worked. She suddenly fell out of her chatty mood.

She was right, this really wasn't him at all. He'd never wanted to do things like this, or even thought about them until recently. He felt himself moving, but his eyes were closed and his mind raced. Then he realized that it wasn't that he had never been the type of guy who could do this, it was only that he'd never met the type of girl he'd do this_ with_. Until now.

He opened his eyes as another kiss broke off to see she was underneath him now. Okay. Her breathing was so rough and enticing that he wasted no time in diving back in. She could breathe through her nose.

_Except she had to talk, again._

"I don't...think your...dad...mm!...left us alone...just to – oh god...just to make out, you know?" she panted.

Ichigo pulled away to stare at her with wide eyes.

* * *

Ichigo's huge eyes looked Rukia up and down expectantly, and though he looked nervous as he did it, Rukia punched him in the shoulder anyway.

"I meant to_ talk,_ idiot!" she yelled. "This doesn't fix everything, you know!"

"Okay" was all Ichigo said before he dove straight back down once more. Rukia nearly sighed at his impatience, but ended up gasping instead: he'd started kissing and sucking on her neck.

"So talk," he said quickly between kisses.

Rukia hated herself for moaning. "That's...not fair...you're horrible..." she breathed.

"Okay."

"Stop saying that!"

"Okay."

* * *

A while later, Ichigo was sitting on the foot of his bed, staring blankly until he heard Rukia call his name from her position upon his desk. He looked up.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Could I stay here tonight?" she asked innocently.

"What?!"


	9. Chapter 9

Well, now there was no way she would be returning her _gigai_ to Urahara anytime soon, Rukia thought as she looked in the bathroom mirror.

Ichigo had pleasantly surprised her, but she cursed him anyway. Well, come to think of it, he hadn't been _too_ out-of-character: when he was on his back, he busied his hands with propping himself up, and when it was reversed, he kept them on either side of her as they kissed. They definitely didn't wander. And it had been him who had stopped it before they'd gotten too far...whatever that might be. She blushed slightly. She had to admit, she was rather glad he had.

But all that chivalry wouldn't get rid of the hickeys on her neck.

Except this was just a _gigai_, the hickeys wouldn't stick around, but her expression would. That was the real problem, because as she looked at herself in the mirror, she knew that anyone in Soul Society would be able to read her like a book right then. She couldn't figure out exactly what it was about her face, but she didn't want to chance someone cutting her to the quick about it as soon as she returned. At least if she stayed, just tonight, she'd have time to compose herself.

That was her excuse, anyway.

Another reason was, as she'd thought – known – she of course didn't want to leave, ever. Not after what had happened today, which was sure to fuel dreams for weeks to come. And if that was going to happen, she sure as hell wasn't looking forward to waking up alone, cold and longing again. She deserved one pleasant sunrise, right? Plus, Ichigo's room just kind of felt like home, but that part was just for her to know.

She exited the bathroom and crossed the hall to Ichigo's room again. He was still sitting at the foot of his bed, but now his staring eyes had all sorts of obvious thoughts behind them as they bored into the wall across from him. He looked at her as she entered.

"Hey," he said shyly. She felt a strange mixture of disappointment and relief at how quickly he'd reverted to his usual self when he wasn't in the throes of passion.

"Hello," she replied. "So, have you made your decision?" she asked. Her stomach seemed to twist around inside her as she waited for an answer.

"What about Captain Ukitake, or Byakuya?" he asked the wall, which he'd turned back to face.

"Captain Ukitake knows I had the day. And even though I'm a vice-Captain now, I still stay at the Kuchiki estate often. The Captain will assume I stayed there tonight, and _Nii-sama_ will assume I stayed at the barracks," she explained. While it was a reasonable assumption, she still felt guilty at the rationalization, and hoped Ichigo wouldn't call her on it. She was suddenly glad at his renewed interest in the wall.

He chuckled once. "You've given this a lot of thought," he said. "Just so you can stay here with me..." Rukia couldn't tell if he was being flattered or surprised or something else. Then, he broke his stare with the wall and looked behind him at his bed.

"I'm obviously staying in your closet!" Rukia yelled, insulted. "Don't get the wrong idea!"

Ichigo whipped his head back around to look at her with his eyes wide. "What? My closet?"

Rukia huffed. "Of course, where else did you think I was going to stay?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest and scanning his expression to see if she could glean his answer from it.

"You're so selfish," he said through a smile. Rukia blinked at him. "It's a closet, after all. Two years and you think it's still going to be empty? Or was I supposed to empty everything out again?" he asked, though he didn't sound annoyed at all.

Still, Rukia suddenly felt bad. Not just because her own presumptuousness had been thrown in her face, but because Ichigo seemed to be coming up with excuses to keep her from staying. Well then, all she had to do was make sure he didn't have any, then. She'd clean the thing out herself, and he could complain later.

She marched over to the closet, and as she did, Ichigo hopped off his bed to cut her off. He was only a second too slow, so he put his hand on her shoulder instead to stop her opening the closet door. But it wouldn't work, and she pulled it open anyway. Clothes tumbled out onto her feet.

Her heart skipped a beat. The closet was so messy, shoved full of clothes that should have been hanging up or folded and stacked, her Kuchiki side told her. Instead, they were thrown in so chaotically that they had spilled out when she'd opened the door, which now that she looked at the mess contained inside, was more like breaking a seal.

But that was just the bottom.

Her bed was exactly as she'd left it, and nothing touched it. She had to force her breath to pull into her throat without catching as she looked, astounded, at how exactly the same it was. Ichigo had amassed more clothes and various other things over the past two years, but now the mess they made at her feet meant something else entirely: he'd refrained from occupying the space she'd stayed with anything else, as if he was expecting her to return. For two whole years and more. There was even a pillow and blanket set on it, which she watched herself run her hand over. Though they'd been cooped up in a closet, they smelled fresh. When had he last –?

"I...guess you can stay...if you want," she heard him say behind her, and knew he was blushing.

* * *

Isshin watched as Yuzu, all sugar and smiles, stuck the miniature ice cream spoon into the mouth of that kid with the tomato-red hair. His face quickly came to match. He didn't think Yuzu even realized that the boy clearly had a crush on her – she'd innocently misread is nervous gawking at her as him being too shy to ask to try some of her ice cream. Isshin sighed.

He hoped that's all he wanted to try. He'd have to keep an eye on the little tomato-face.

Karin busied herself with walking around the store, followed by the little mousey girl in the pigtails, who answered her questions about products whenever they came up. He knew she'd been here before, and he was glad she had people who could help her come into her own when it came to seeing spirits.

On the other side of the table, Urahara asked "So, what brings you here today?"

Isshin pulled his attention away from his daughters. "We need to talk about Ichigo," he said seriously.

Urahara looked sheepish. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the little present I sent over earlier, would it?" he asked.

"Present?" Isshin pondered. "You mean Rukia-_chan_?"

Urahara pointed at Isshin with his thumb raised, before dropping it onto his first finger like the hammer of a gun, in a "you got it" gesture. "Of course. Who do you think gave her the _gigai_?"

Isshin hadn't really thought about that. He'd figured Soul Society had supplied her with one. He couldn't help but smirk. "Since when do you wing-man for my son?"

"Oh no, you didn't find them doing anything _indecent_, did you?" Urahara asked, faking concern and not hiding his intrigue well at all.

"Ha!" Isshin scoffed. "My boy's such a square, he wouldn't do anything like that," he explained, waving off Urahara's suggestion. And not hiding _his_ disappointment well at all. He was even more let down to find out that Rukia-_chan_'s _gigai_ was Urahara's work. If so, why had she dressed it her _shihakusho_? She could have worn any number of sexy lingerie to seduce the poor bastard and maybe gotten a head-start on giving Isshin some much-deserved grandchildren.

Jeez, what prudes kids were these days.

"Then what did we need to talk about?"

"Are you kidding? It's obvious Ichigo's crazy about that girl," Isshin said. "I know my son, and the way he's been acting, it's clear he's completely hopeless about it."

"And, Rukia?"

"I saw the way she was looking at him when I came in. Ichigo didn't – he was too busy looking at me, but...it reminded me of how Masaki used to look at me..."

"I see," said Urahara, as if this was all news to him. Isshin knew better.

"So you see the problem, right?" Isshin asked. Urahara nodded slowly, looking contemplative, but he explained anyway. "Sooner or later, Rukia-_chan_'s gonna have to go back to Soul Society. That's gonna tear Ichigo apart, especially now that he's seen her again."

Urahara continued to nod.

"But it's not as if Rukia-_chan_ can come back anytime," said Isshin. "I noticed she's a vice-Captain now." He smiled whimsically to himself. Good for her.

Urahara caught Isshin with an eye that twinkled with ambition. "So what are you suggesting?"

Isshin let out a breath. "We're going to give Ichigo his _Shinigami_ powers back," he said.

Right away he knew Urahara had been thinking the same thing. The man grinned.

"Are you saying we should use _that_?" he asked. "It's dangerous, you know. There's no guarantee it'll work."

Isshin couldn't care less. He knew that his mopey-ass son would gladly take the risk if he knew the chance existed.

"And I'd need quite a bit of _reiatsu_ from you as well. You just got it back, I'd hate to –"

"Don't worry about me," Isshin said, and his focus turned to his daughters...

Well. Yuzu's ice cream was completely finished off, but judging by Tomato-face's chin, he'd guess that Yuzu hadn't been the one to do it. He watched as she giggled and swiped her fingertip across Tomato-face's chin to get the bit of ice cream off. Tomato-face made a show of protesting, but soon gave up to hunch over and pout.

Oh wait, he wasn't pouting. When you pouted you normally crossed your arms in front of your chest, not over your lap.

Stupid kid. Didn't he know that slouching just made it more obvious?

Luckily for Tomato-face, Yuzu's naivety was doing him a great service, as she just smiled innocently at him. Luckily for Isshin too, really. It was too early for him to have to sit down with Yuzu with horror stories about the male condition. He'd wanted to wait until she was older. Much older. Too old, would be nice.

His attention turned back to Urahara as he remembered why he'd looked to his daughters in the first place. "If I lose it for good this time, it's not that bad. I'm okay where I am, and my kid doesn't have to fight anymore."

"Well, if you're sure," replied Urahara as he leaned back on his hands, probably already doing calculations in the air above his head.

"By the way," Isshin piped up as he pointed to Tomato-face. "Who's the kid?"

"Jinta? He's a good kid," Urahara replied.

Isshin wondered about that. "Oh, and there's one more request I have for you."

"Oh?"

"I need something built special. Giving Ichigo back is powers won't do him any good if she never comes around again," he explained.

"And you think I should build this thing for you? I could get in a lot of trouble, you know," Urahara said, without sounding all too serious.

"Well, let's just say you owe me one," Isshin responded. Urahara looked mock-hurt.

"What?" he pouted. "I thought you said it wasn't my fault before."

"And now I'm saying you owe me a favour," Isshin said simply.

Urahara grinned toothily. "You're a devious man, Isshin Kurosaki."


	10. Chapter 10

Though the scent of lavender tickling at Ichigo's nose sought to force him into the waking world, he tightened his eyelids in an attempt to stave it off. He felt so warm, good warm, that he didn't want to leave his bed yet. But the smell persisted, and it was good, so instead of letting it rouse him, he gave into it and pulled whatever was producing it closer, hoping it would sooth him back to sleep. He took it in deep and felt so relaxed that his plan seemed like it would work...

Until whatever-it-was moved under his arm.

Ichigo's eyes shot open. Sense struck him like a bolt of lightning as he realized he couldn't feel his right arm, and that the pleasant warmth he felt was due to more than just his blanket.

Rukia's head of raven hair was just under his chin; she was snuggled against his chest, facing away. They were _spooning_!

Ichigo became like stone against Rukia as his entire body tensed up, involuntarily cracking his neck. His mind was frantic with questions: why was she there? When had she gotten there? Why did her hair smell so good? Why had she ever cut any of it off? Sure, it looked cute, but it smelled _amazing_ and was like silk under his lips...which he quickly removed. This stuff was like gold!

No, stop. That wasn't the issue.

For all his questions, Ichigo couldn't figure out what to do next, whether he should wake her up and risk being thought of as a pervert, or if he should just let her do it on her own and...wait, he'd still be blamed for it, wouldn't he? But if he waited, he could keep enjoying the –

No! Stop it, dammit!

Then she rustled a little and rolled herself over as, all the while, Ichigo remained in place like a statue. She made a soft cooing sound into his chest that sent his heart racing and his head spinning. Both her hands were open and pressed against his chest too, her arms bent so that her hands were right over her –

Oh, _come on_!

Ichigo felt jealous of her, because his own left arm was already starting to ache from having to hold it steady in the air just above her. He was afraid to set it back down, anywhere. It finally became to much, so he bent it behind his head, but felt guilty at how casual he now looked about the situation with his arm like that.

But this was her fault, why should he feel guilty? When he'd last closed his eyes he'd been watching – er – he had _seen_ her sleeping, with the best peaceful look on her face, but she _had_ been in the closet. She'd left the door open this time so they could see each other, explaining that it was for if she awoke in the middle of the night – something she'd done without fail for the past week – and wanted to see if he was still there. Just in case.

He'd felt flattered, but pretended it weirded him out instead, though of course, without protesting too much.

And now here they were, somehow. Her rhythmic breaths felt so hot against his t-shirt that he thought his chest was going to melt, though his face wasn't much cooler. And his heartbeat was so loud in his ears that he could not believe she hadn't already woken up. Was she deaf or something?

She made another noise as cute as the first one, stretching out her curled legs and tangling them up in his. Oh god, her skin was so smooth! And she was so soft and...

And he wished he could say the same about himself.

_Oh shit._

This was bad, _very_ bad, pretty much the worst. Why wouldn't she just wake up, dammit?! He tried to breathe and calm himself, but each time, he took in a lungful of lavender, and calm seemed miles away and was shrinking fast. What was he going to do?!

Okay, wait, it wasn't like she had her arms around him or anything. If he could just free his legs, he could slide off of his bed without waking her and make his way to the bathroom for the coldest shower ever.

With surgeon-like precision he hoped he'd successfully inherited from his father, Ichigo slowly untangled his legs from hers, and to his great surprise, she stayed asleep. But when he tried to pull himself away using the arm that had been behind his head, she closed her fingers around his t-shirt and he had only a breath in which to freeze. Could he slip out of it without her noticing? Probably not, he thought, dejected. Plus, removing his shirt in this situation didn't bode well for his innocence. Man, he would have _hated_ her right then if he wasn't too busy...

Thinking of a way out. Yeah.

It was his only chance: he slithered his left arm down into the blankets, carefully navigating so as not to touch...anything but her hands. Success! He rested his palm upon the back of both her hands – jeez, they were small – and began moving his thumb around in circles, hoping to relax them or something, he guessed? He really hoped he wasn't just being self-serving. He was sure he wasn't. Pretty sure.

Yes! Two for two! He felt the two small bunches of his t-shirt relax back into his chest, and was about to pull his hand away – when suddenly she took it up in both of hers, rather tightly.

"...Mm...Ichigo..." she mumbled. Then, all of a sudden, her eyes snapped wide open. He couldn't see it, but he could tell by the way she twitched and gasped.

Here it was. The moment of truth. All he had to do was explain himself and...

Before any words could leave his mouth, he felt his back smack against the floor. She'd pushed him! He sat bolt upright, then remembered himself and folded his legs under him so he could properly hunch over. Standing wasn't an option.

He heard her feet hit the floor from the other side of his bed, then heard her rush across the room and loudly slide the closet door shut. Thank goodness, he had time to...compose himself.

After a couple of minutes of tense silence, he lightly knocked on the closet door. "Um...Rukia?"

No answer. He tried to pull the door open, slowly, but it hadn't slid more than an inch before it was snapped shut again from the other side. He sighed.

"Rukia...listen, just get out of there and we can..." he began while once again attempting to open the door. Again it pulled the other way and slammed shut.

Ichigo hung his head, then raised it again to check his alarm clock. Fine. "Okay," he said. "I'm gonna go to school then..." _I hope you're still here when I get back_, he added in his head. He knew it wouldn't be true anyway, so he just left.

And when he got back and the end of the day, she was gone.

* * *

That was already three weeks ago. It felt like yesterday.

Of course, that was probably because he couldn't stop thinking about it. And regretting it. He hadn't even gotten to say..._goodbye_. Come to think of it, he hadn't told her _goodbye_ the entire time she'd been there. Sure, she'd heard it secondhand somehow, but it wasn't the same. They'd finally met again, and it had completely slipped his mind to say it outright.

And for the entire three weeks afterward, all he wanted was a do-over, or a way to call her Soul Pager, or to punch himself in the damn head! God, he was so stupid!

But that didn't matter anymore, he was here now. He was standing just outside of _Seireitei_, a chilly night breeze rustling his recently reclaimed _shihakusho_. It was slightly different from before. After he'd calmed down enough from what he'd first thought was an attempt on his life by his father using a strange, glowing white sword, he'd had it explained to him.

"The Final _Getsuga Tensho_ is meant to be the end of the road," his dad had said. "Your powers aren't supposed to come back, so of course it's gonna be a little different when they manifest all over again."

Ichigo didn't really know why that was, but he didn't really care either. All he'd cared about was that he now had the ability to see Rukia, _really_ see her, on his own again. Apparently his dad had asked Urahara-_san_ for more than just a way to give his powers back.

_Oh, right._

He opened his nervously clenched fist and looked at the small white disk inside it, about the side of his thumbnail. Printed on it was a small, colourless caricature of Urahara-_san_ smiling and giving a thumbs-up. Ichigo briefly wondered if that was important until he realized how stupid that was.

He tossed it into his mouth, swallowing without chewing, just as he'd been told.

"This little beauty will help Rukia-_chan_ know where to find you," Urahara-_san_ had told him, as he waved one of the disks that he held between his thumb and first finger in front of Ichigo's face. Though he'd been embarrassed to find out that Urahara-_san_ apparently knew about Rukia, he'd let him explain anyway because he liked where it was going. "Just swallow it whole and it'll metabolize your _reiatsu _so that it spreads out all thin, so it can reach her."

Ichigo felt slightly depressed that he needed help like that now. Though his powers had returned, they were very limited, basic. His dad had said that it was because the glowing sword had only "watered the seed", and that Ichigo needed to wait for his powers to return in full, but he couldn't say how long that would take. Zangetsu had not even returned yet, and Ichigo felt too light without it at his back, almost naked. Being as he was, it would be hard for anyone a good distance away to sense him quickly, as he probably wouldn't feel like much of anything.

Ichigo suddenly felt the need to blink his vision steady, as he now felt very light-headed. An energizing feeling tickled its way up from the bottom of his stomach to his throat, and he let out a long, slow breath, like Urahara-_san_ had told him. It was working, apparently.

Ichigo decided to sit at the base of a large tree that was near him, just beside the small, shimmering point of light that had been his entrance to this place. He was too dizzy to stand. But a few minutes later, he heard someone approaching and forced himself up. It had to be Rukia. Once she felt him, he didn't doubt that she'd come running to see if her senses could be believed. Yes, he was finally going to see her again, finally going to get to tell her...

_Renji?_

* * *

Renji stopped when he saw the person standing before him: Ichigo was dressed in a _shihakusho_, but the s_hitagi_ that peaked out from under the black _kosode_ was a deep red instead of white. He also had deep red bandages wrapped tightly around his chest, it seemed, spiralling all the way up his neck so that it was completely covered, stopping just under his chin. The same bandages adorned his arms right up to the wrists, so that they too were concealed by them. Other than that, the outfit was pretty standard, except for the Deputy _Shinigami_ badge, which hung by a thread from the red sash around his waist, near his hip.

But his _zanpakuto _was missing. Had he not brought it? Well, then that would make things all the easier...

He was taller too, he noticed. His hair was also longer, as was his face, a bit. He seemed older, more mature, though the look on his face reminded Renji of a disappointed child.

"Yo, Ichigo," Renji said, trying for seriousness. He had to admit that he would have been happy to see his...rival again, if only under different circumstances.

"Renji..." Ichigo said, not really responding in kind. He seemed shocked that Renji was the one to find him. And Renji knew why.

"Judging by that dumb look on your face, I'm betting you were expecting someone else," Renji taunted. Ichigo's expression hardened and he looked about to fire a volley of insults back at Renji, but he cut him off with "Maybe Rukia?"

Ichigo froze.

"Yeah, I know why you're here, Ichigo," Renji said, noticing he sounded disappointed. He was, he really didn't want to do this to such a good...rival, but he had no choice. It was for Rukia's sake.

"Renji, I –"

"Listen, Ichigo," Renji cut him off again. He wasn't going to give him the chance to sway him, no matter how much he doubted that was possible. "I don't think you should come here again."

"...What?" Ichigo's expression reminded Renji, unnervingly, of Captain Kuchiki's: all stone-cold determination.

"Rukia's a vice-Captain now, Ichigo. She's important." Renji winced, he hadn't meant to imply that she hadn't been important before. He shook it off and pressed on. "She has a lot of responsibilities now..."

"I know that," Ichigo said coldly.

"I don't think so. Do you really understand what it means for Rukia to be a vice-Captain?"

When Ichigo failed to respond, Renji kept going.

"It means she has to be at her best all the time for the sake of her Captain. Ukitatake is a great man, but he needs a lot of assistance, so Rukia has to be there for him, one-hundred percent."

"I get it, Renji. What does that have to do with me?"

Renji clenched his fists. "Ever since she came back a few weeks ago, Rukia's been even more distracted than before. It was okay back when she was only making minor paperwork mistakes, but now its...You can't do this, Ichigo. You can't leave her to wait for you all the time."

"That's not what I'm doing. I came here, didn't I?" Ichigo asked harshly. Renji thought he might feel Ichigo's _reiatsu _flare up, but as he expected, it only continued to shrink.

"But how long can you stay? And how often can you come back?" Renji asked. That seemed to give Ichigo pause, which Renji didn't waste. "It was clever of you to come here the way you did – I don't think anybody even noticed you." He looked from Ichigo to the Deputy badge, then to the small orb of light beside where he stood. "I'm guessing Urahara made it so you could use your own power to get here instead of an outside source."

Ichigo's expression told him he was right on target with his guess.

"But you don't have all your power back yet, right?" Renji didn't wait for an answer, this was the home stretch. "I can tell its depleting right now. It's weak, and it's dropping. What happens when it finally runs out, Ichigo?"

This time Ichigo did get words in. "That's...none of your business," he said solemnly, looking off to the side.

"You die, right?" Renji asked, pointing at the small glowing orb. "That closes on you and you get stuck here, just like everyone else, without _reiatsu_."

Wow. Renji was on a roll. He might have been very proud of himself if he wasn't in this situation.

"That's not gonna happen, Renji," Ichigo told him.

"Damn right, 'cause you're not sticking around," Renji said matter-of-factly. He took a few steps closer to Ichigo, who didn't retreat. But in his current state, how could he? "What did you think was going to happen? That Rukia was gonna run into your arms and then you'd just leave her again so she could spend however long it takes for you to come back, just waiting? Do you think that's what she planned to do when she accepted the vice-Captain position?"

"I...no, but..."

"No, you didn't think that. Because you didn't think at all, right? About her, or about Captain Ukitake. You just thought about what would make _you_ happy. Well we're not here for your entertainment, Ichigo. We're guardians, we have work to do."

"Renji..." Ichigo breathed through his teeth, his fists clenched and shaking. Renji stepped even closer and rested his hand on Zabimaru's hilt.

"You really wanna fight me right now, Ichigo?" he asked teasingly. "That's pretty ungrateful of you, you should be thanking me."

Ichigo locked eyes with Renji. "For what?" he spat.

In one swift motion, Renji grabbed the front of Ichigo's _shihakusho_ and pulled him along as he spun on his heel to build momentum. Then, he tossed Ichigo at the small orb in the air. He was only a little surprised when it burst open in a bright flash to swallow him up, leaving not a trace behind.

"For saving your life. Idiot."


	11. Chapter 11

Another disk of Hollow bait dissolved between Uryu's fingers.

_That's five, only five left_.

He stood alone in the street, bow in-hand, as he waited for the next throng of Hollows to come stampeding to him. But he'd been at this all morning, and had already used five. How many more Hollows was it going to take? Surely they were still watching him.

And he was giving them quite a show indeed.

He wished there would be more than small fry, however. A shot between the eyes here; once, straight through the mouth and out the back of the head; it only took one arrow apiece, it was so simple. But he wasn't here to enjoy himself.

Kurosaki had regained his spiritual powers, Uryu had felt it, yet he was worse off now than ever before. He _missed_ school now. Before he would attend, only to sit through the entire class unfazed by the goings on of the lessons, but when he'd stopped showing up altogether, Uryu was sure something was seriously wrong. He didn't know what it was – Kurosaki wouldn't talk to anyone – but he knew who could help.

And he was missing time with his own...girlfriend to bring her there. Orihime-_san_ had to be his girlfriend by now, right? Maybe he should start using -_chan_ instead? The thought made Uryu squirm uncomfortably. He'd have to think about it some more. A lot more, later. But right now, he had to focus on the task at hand.

Except it was already done, again. He did a quick scan, but of course found that every last Hollow had already been obliterated, for the fifth time. He hadn't even been paying attention. Maybe Soul Society didn't care about the small fry? No, that wasn't true.

He sighed, pulled the sixth disc, and crushed it.

_Where are you, Kuchiki-_san_?_

Then he felt it: a spike in _reiatsu_, not far from where he was. Finally, she'd mobilized. He knew they'd send her again because of their past association with one another, it had only been a matter of time. Well, then this chore was done. Uryu pulled taut the glowing string of his bow, letting fly a barrage of arrows so swift and true that most of the Hollows vanished in silence, without even time to roar. But one remained, a winged one, who had darted off to the side just before his compatriots had ended. Uryu smirked. He drew the string back once more as he felt the _reiatsu_ approach –

Wait, why was it so weak? Had something happened to Kuchiki-_san_?

Uryu was so surprised when the _Shinigami_ finally flashed before his eyes that he missed his shot, the Hollow ducking away so that the arrow pierced only the clouds.

Because the _Shinigami_ was not the one he'd been expecting.

_Kurosaki_?

* * *

Ichigo barely noticed Uryu as he charged the winged Hollow, his sword raised above his head. God, it was so flimsy and small, he thought. When was the old man going to get his ass in gear, already? He had a score to settle, and it had already been a whole damn month...

A month since the day Renji kicked him right back out of Soul Society, the smug bastard. Zangetsu, if what he held now could be called that, had returned suddenly about two weeks later, and was already at his waist when he routinely exited his body to check his _reiatsu _one day. It had to be Zangetsu, because he guessed there was nothing else it could be, except it looked so strange now.

For the first time ever, his _zanpakuto_ looked like an actual _katana_, complete with its own sheath and a red sash for attaching to his waist. Amusingly, its_ tsuba_ looked nearly identical to his Deputy badge in shape and design, albeit maybe slightly smaller. Yes, it was certainly odd to see his _zanpakuto_ looking like it did.

But that didn't mean Ichigo couldn't still fight with it. He had to.

Ichigo brought the blade down hard against the shoulder of the crouching Hollow, which had landed when it saw him approach. The attack did less than nothing, and Ichigo paid for it when a tidal wave of pain crashed into his gut. He could scream only blood as he felt the pavement meet his back and watched the clouds above seemed to race away from him as he slid however far.

Using Zangetsu as a crutch, he pulled himself into a sitting position. Wow, that _was_ far. The Hollow was barely the size of his pinky, he was so far away. Ichigo groaned at himself for being so weak. At this rate, he'd never beat...He stood, and closed the distance once again.

Uryu probably tried to say something, or had said something, but Ichigo hadn't paid attention. He swiped furiously at the Hollow's knees – bad move. The Hollow took off into the air, and suddenly Ichigo was the worm in the sights of the bird. _Shit._ Okay then.

Ichigo leaped, once again coming face-to-mask with the thing. He was so weak, but at least he could still do this much. His feet found traction in the air where they shouldn't have, and he brought Zangetsu up in both hands, readying him in a rather awkward stance that might lead into a jab? Ichigo wasn't sure. He hated that his sword, which had always been so large, was so lacking now...

No, wait, that wasn't true, was it? It really wasn't the sword that was lacking. It wasn't the sword that had been tossed out of Soul Society like garbage so easily. It wasn't the sword that was holding _him_ back, it was the other way around. Ichigo sighed.

Zangetsu probably hated been clumsily flailed around by someone so weak, and Ichigo couldn't blame him. As the ugly bird-thing looked on with eyes that weren't, Ichigo lowered and sheathed his sword. This wasn't right. He was going to become stronger himself, so that when the old man wanted to help him, _he_ could accept that help. As it was now, he was like a kid who expected the old man to fight _for_ him instead of with him. It was just like that time with Kenpachi.

So Ichigo was going to get stronger, even if he had to do it the hard way. He was going to rip that Hollow's mask apart with his bare hands if he had to. He was tired of sitting around and moping, he was going to get strong enough to fight Renji again, and Byakuya again too, and anyone else until he reached her. It was time to stop barking at the moon, and take the leap. Ichigo charged...

And something – someone – caught his sleeve.

"_Not by yourself, Ichigo_."

And the sky and the Hollow melted away, leaving Ichigo to stand confused on the side of the skyscraper that stretched out before him like a road paved with windows. He knew this place, but it was different from before. As he quickly turned to see the old man who still clutched at his sleeve, he took notice of the sky that wheeled around above him.

It was a fiery pink, as if caught in a sunset that cast the clouds above in deep purples and reds, and let the windows beneath him reflect a pleasant orange glow despite the lack of a sun. Even if there had been one, he wasn't sure where it would find enough room to peak through – the clouds were numerous and huddled together, as if in the wake of a just-broken...storm...

Oh.

The look on Zangetsu's face said it all. He looked different too, but only a bit: the lining in his coat had turned red from white, and the coat itself looked like new and was no longer tattered. On the left side, it now bore a breast pocket with a single, pure white handkerchief neatly folded and tucked inside. Aside from that, the only other difference about Zangetsu was that he looked less scruffy now. Most of his former beard was missing, and he had only a triangular patch of it left directly under his mouth, much like the kind Chad now wore.

"_Ossan_..." Ichigo managed, sadly. He knew by the parting clouds that he'd left him in the rain for a long while.

"It's been too long, Ichigo," the old man responded seriously. Ichigo could only nod his agreement. "You look as though you've beaten me to the lecture."

"_Ossan_, I...forgive me," Ichigo said finally. His heart felt heavier even than it had in the last month, when all he thought of was how he wasn't strong enough to see Rukia.

Zangetsu's serious eyes turned skyward. "You've noticed, haven't you? This place has changed since you were last here," he observed.

Ichigo's gaze fell the other way, to the shallow ocean that he now noticed all the buildings were floating in. Damn. "I know, _Ossan_. I'm sorry."

"I'm not talking about that. Look, the rain has stopped, it'll begin soon..."

Ichigo faced Zangetsu again and was about to ask what, when something cold nipped at the tip of his nose. He looked up and watched as the red in the clouds drained away like a forgotten rage, leaving only night-blue wisps that emptied a light snowfall onto his sunset world.

Ichigo's blood ran cold. If Zangetsu hated the rain so much, he could only imagine what the snow did to him.

"I – _Ossan_, I don't –" Ichigo began, then suddenly stopped when he noticed that Zangetsu was _smiling_ as the snow fell lightly on him. "Wh...when did this happen, _Ossan_?" was all he could ask. He wasn't sure if he was asking when the snow had started, or when Zangetsu had started enjoying inclement weather.

"This has been here for quite some time," Zangetsu answered without looking at Ichigo, still lost in the sky. "But when the storm came, it got lost in the rain."

"What storm, _Ossan_?"

Now Zangetsu did look at Ichigo, with eyes as intense as he'd ever seen them. "The one that came when you stopped thinking about what you wanted to protect, and only thought about what you needed to achieve," he said sternly.

Ichigo decided not to speak so that Zangetsu could continue. "Ichigo, I think you know why this world has changed. It should be clear to you now that you've admitted it to yourself," he said, and Ichigo couldn't help blushing slightly. "But recently all you've thought of –"

"Was beating Renji," came Ichigo's sullen voice before he knew it. It was true, ever since that day, Ichigo had become rather obsessed with forcing himself to get stronger. Himself. That's why he couldn't hear Zangetsu, why he'd foolishly run into battle with the first Hollow he'd sensed in ages without even thinking of him. Because for a whole month, he hadn't wanted to talk, only fight those who stood in his way of getting to Rukia. Sure, she had been the end toward which he strove, but one which had quickly been eclipsed by the means. Ichigo let his knees buckle.

"Were you so afraid of losing what was precious to you, that you forgot there was someone here to help you reclaim it?" Zangetsu asked. "Don't be afraid anymore, Ichigo."

Ichigo looked up, still on his knees. "I got caught up, huh?" he said, grinning sourly at his own foolishness. He allowed himself a hollow chuckle at his expense. "Sorry about that, _Ossan_."

"Ichigo." Zangetsu spoke his name with so commandingly that Ichigo looked up on reflex. "Before you left, I said that what you wanted to protect was not what I wanted to protect."

Ichigo remembered that all too well.

"But you have something new to protect now," the old man continued. "Something that drives away the rain to bring the snow. I want to protect that too, Ichigo. I...really like this snow, after all..."

Suddenly, Zangetsu gripped Ichigo's wrist and yanked him to his feet, boring straight into his eyes with his own. "I understand, _Ossan_," said Ichigo.

"That's why I'm telling you, don't be afraid anymore. Abandon your fear, Ichigo. Look forward. Move forward and never stop. You'll age if you pull back. You'll die if you hesitate."

A wide grin broke out on Ichigo's face at those words, and he turned away from the old man, confident that he was at his back still, and looked toward the Hollow that was once again before him, frozen in mid-pounce.

"_Call out my name_."

* * *

Uryu watched as Ichigo suddenly exploded with energy, and the arrow he had readied shattered at the mere force of it. There was a metallic ring in the air, a blood-curdling screech, then silence. Uryu could no longer see Ichigo for the smoke that had appeared, until he dropped out of it, landing on the ground a short distance away.

His zanpakuto had returned to him, it seemed. It was different from how Uryu remembered it: the basic shape was the same, like a giant, elegant knife, but the blade was completely black, even the cutting edge. The edge also extended a little further past where the blade met the handle, so that a small curve of it shielded the knuckles of Kurosaki's sword hand as he held it.

The handle was longer, and became flatter and wider at the end, curving up into a sharp point in the shape of a comma. No, a _magatama_. Through the hole in the widest part of the _magatama_ was run a long red ribbon, which Uryu guessed wrapped around the sword when not in use, just as the white wrapping had done before.

"Ichigo..."

Uryu hadn't said that. And Kurosaki definitely wasn't looking at _him_ with eyes like that.

Uryu spun around, and there stood Kuchiki-_san_, all shock and awe. So his plan had worked, then. Satisfied, Uryu touched his glasses as he walked toward Kuchiki-_san_, stopping for just a moment before he continued past her, to where Orihime would be.

"My apologies. Seems I got a little carried away with my target practice. Be sure to tell your superiors that you gave me a stern talking to."

And he continued on, not really sure he wanted to see what would happen next between the two.


	12. Chapter 12

As good as they had been back then, the kisses they'd shared when Rukia was in her _gigai_ seemed like they'd been done through a pane of glass now. He remembered touching her, and now it felt like he'd done so with gloves on. Recalling the smell of her hair, it seemed now like he'd done it with a cold. He was momentarily angry with Urahara for making her a _gigai_ that wasn't good enough for her, or that she was too good for. Either way. Now that they were both souls, every caress, lick, bite, squeeze, was multiplied tenfold or more. Each sensation was as new as it was dizzying.

And Ichigo made sure to savour every one. He kissed her lips and neck, he ran his fingers through her hair, he even slid his hands along her hips and thighs, whenever he managed to untangle their fingers. She was so soft and delicate-feeling that he would have been afraid of hurting her, coming at her as hard as he was every second, if she didn't take charge so much: she frequently took his hands up in hers and placed them where she wanted, leading them on a intoxicating tour of her body; and sometimes she would grab his face and turn it this way and that, to kiss him at a preferred angle.

Ichigo's back found a wall, and he remembered that they were still in the street, and thought about stopping it. Yes, they were both spirits, but quite a few people in Karakura seemed to be spiritually aware.

Then Rukia tore open the front of his _shihakusho_ and ran her hands from his abs up to his chest, sending goosebumps racing out in all directions on his skin. But they carried in their wake an odd warmth, not like the ones you got when you were cold or nervous. When her hands reached his shoulders, they looped around his neck, which she hung onto as she left a trail of kisses from his chest, to his neck, and finally his lips. If he had been thinking of anything before she'd started this, Ichigo didn't remember it anymore.

* * *

Rukia had been surprised to find that the bandages that covered Ichigo's arms and neck also wrapped around his entire torso. For a second she'd thought they might get in the way, but they were _really_ tight. She could feel everything underneath without pressing too hard – though she couldn't stop herself from doing that anyway. God, his stomach felt like a xylophone! She'd always known he was fit, but firsthand, his body was _something else_. She couldn't restrain herself, and put her lips to it, straddling his hips as she started at his chest and worked her way up. She hadn't really expected the bandages to taste like anything, let alone...good.

When she came to his lips, she held the kiss for long enough that her lips tingled from the pressure, and he moaned in the back of his throat. God, that was too much! She pulled an arm out from behind his neck, placed her hand on his shoulder and pushed, making sure he was flush to the wall behind him before she popped the seal their mouths had made and came back even harder, this time leading with her tongue. As their lips and tongues met, she squeezed his shoulder tightly. It felt hot and was bare, tempting her all the time she was in his mouth.

So she broke it off after a while to detour. She noticed that the bandages on his arms didn't go up all the way, leaving his shoulders exposed, the only parts they didn't touch aside from his hands. Thank god they didn't cover his hands. Her lips found the hot skin, causing Ichigo to tighten his grip on the hair at the back of her head as his breathing broke its evenness. She moaned in response to the goosebumps when they erupted under her tongue. The bandages didn't get in the way, but they didn't compare to bare skin at all.

Right after Rukia lightly closed her teeth around the curve of Ichigo's shoulder, she felt his hand leave the back of her head as she forced her back, and thought maybe she'd gone too far. But his eyes weren't mad, they were...she didn't know, but she felt warm under that gaze. He started to stand and she followed suit, not wanting to seem like the disappointed one. He closed his fingers around her entire hand and pulled her along toward where his _zanpakuto_ stood in the ground where he'd left it.

When he lifted the giant sword, the red ribbon that hung from its hilt sprang to life and wrapped completely around the blade like an angry snake, so that it matched its wielder. He set it on his back as he pulled her into his chest, which she immediately started planting little kisses on once more. But she stopped to gasp when she felt herself flying backward as the world around her became only the air which rushed past her ears, before snapping into hard existence again as she fell –

Her back met something softer than she'd expected: Ichigo's bed. My, only a short time with his powers returned, and already his _shunpo_ was in full swing. That was encouraging. Or at least incredibly handy. She loved _shunpo_.

* * *

Ichigo tried his best to hear over the wet sounds their mouths were making, trying to tell if his family was at home. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done to split his attention this way. He was pretty sure that compared to this, achieving _Bankai _had been a cake walk. Surely if they were home, he'd at least hear his father stomping about, right? But nothing from downstairs reached his ears, so he let himself lower, coming closer to Rukia so they could put an end to these all-too-fast kisses.

He wasn't sure how long they continued on for, it could have just as easily been hours as minutes. All he knew was that he was starting to get too anxious. No, he'd passed _too anxious_ a while ago. Maybe around the time he'd shrugged off his _shitagi_ and _kosode_, whenever that had been. In any case, he had to do something – as much as he wanted to keep going – before things got out of hand. Using what resolve hadn't been sucked out of his mouth, he pulled his head up.

Oh, man! This was going to be harder to say now that he'd seen her face: her violet eyes were so big that he nearly lost his words in them, and the rose that coloured her cheeks was so cute that he wanted to –

"Rukia, wait," he panted. He felt that if he'd tried to say anything longer than two words, he wouldn't have held himself up long enough.

Rukia let her arms fall to her sides, her hands palm-up at either side of her head. And she still looked into him with those huge eyes, which in her current position told him something different than before. Dammit! Was she punishing him for stopping, or something?! When she laid like that, it was almost like – But that was exactly the problem.

They were both spirits now, after all.

"Rukia, I don't..."

* * *

Rukia could almost giggle as she watched Ichigo struggle to form words. Almost. His face reddened with each passing moment as he kept repeating the words over and over: _Rukia, I don't_. She thought she knew what he was trying to say, but even though she wanted so badly to keep kissing him, watching him make a fool of himself was too much fun to interrupt. Even in this situation, he was still too innocent to just come out and say it. He was still Ichigo, after all.

After a bit, he did manage to add one more word, giving them _Rukia, I don't have_, but when his eyes started to dart frantically from hers, to his waist, to her waist, and back again, she allowed herself a smile as she reached up to caress his cheek. It was time to let him off the hook.

"It's alright, Ichigo. This is good for now. Let's just stick to this," she said, her thoughts catching on the _for now_ she'd added. She hoped it didn't sound too presumptuous.

Ichigo just nodded, looking too lost to look relieved. He nodded for maybe a little too long, but eventually he let himself lower back down to her, and they continued on, softer, gentler than before. There was no point in exacerbating the problem, for either of them, and this was good enough. No, it was very good.

* * *

"I don't see why we needed to stop at the craft store," Isshin complained as he walked in the door, followed by his daughters. Yuzu followed after Karin, carrying four bags of craft supplies, two on each little arm, smiling widely.

"Jinta-_kun_ always seems very interested in Bostov, so I thought I'd make him something too," she said simply.

Uh-oh. Jinta-_kun_, eh? She'd only seen the kid a few times in the last two months, when had he stopped being "Jinta-_san_"? Maybe it had been a bad idea to start taking the girls on the occasional trips to Urahara _Shoten _he'd started making ever since he'd restored his son's powers. He guessed it was better that they both had a friend to talk to instead of being alone when he left, but...

Jinta-_kun_. He still preferred Tomato-face himself.

Isshin walked across the room to throw his keys on the counter, then it hit him.

_Whoa, how did I miss that?_

Immediately he turned to look at Karin, who was still removing her jacket and shoes at the door. If _he_ felt it, she probably did too, and that was no good. She had always been the one who condemned snooping, but curiosity could get the best of anyone. Masaki had taught him that.

He took off at a run for the stairway, hearing someone call "Dad?" as he approached it. "Daddy's gotta pee!" he yelled as he swung around the end of the banister and bolted up the stairs three at a time. He froze when he reached the upper landing, in enough time to hear Karin groan something about "too much information". He smirked.

He walked on cat's feet as he made his way to Ichigo's door. He felt pleased with himself at how silent he could be when the situation called for it. He stopped before it and rested his hand on the doorknob. He double-checked that he hadn't been followed up, then slowly eased the door open to peak inside.

He smiled: Ichigo was lying on his back in his bed, completely sacked out, with Rukia-_chan_ asleep on his chest, looking content as he'd ever seen her. The top of his son's _shihakusho_ was missing, but he still had on his _hakama_.

_What a little square_, he thought to himself. He sighed. He guessed it was fine. Worrying about one child's love life was enough for him right now.

He felt Yuzu approach as he eased the door shut again, so he took a moment to tap the door with his finger and leave something behind.

"Is _Nii-san_ home yet?" she asked.

"Yeah, but his door's locked. I can't seem to open it," Isshin replied. Yuzu checked this for herself, and when the door indeed resisted her attempts – though not because of a lock – her face quickly took on a look between embarrassment and panic, so he added "Should I try kicking it down?" in a non-sarcastic tone.

Yuzu actually seemed to consider that for just a moment, then shook her head. "No, I'm sure he's okay," she said, but she still laid her hand on the door.

"Didn't you say you had something to make?" Isshin asked, casting a glance at the bags of craft supplies. That snapped Yuzu out of her daze quick enough.

"Oh, right!" she said determinately, and scurried off to her own room, where he heard her unload the contents of the bags onto her bed.

Maybe he should sit down with her now and talk to her about this. Maybe he should have woken Rukia-_chan_ so she didn't oversleep, being a vice-Captain and all. He sighed at these things as he made his way back down the stairs.

No, he'd let his kids be happy for now. At least, in Ichigo's case, who knew how long it was going to last?


	13. Chapter 13

_Outside Seireitei. Tonight. Midnight. _

That was all Urahara's message had said when she'd received it earlier that day on her Soul Pager. She had been so focused when it arrived that the ring tone nearly caused her to topple a tall stack of papers from her desk. The paperwork had been intense lately, but not because she was behind. Actually, she had finished her own share and taken up that of others, just like the old days, and just like then, it made a good distraction. Passable, at least.

Because she hadn't seen Ichigo for a while now, not in the flesh anyway. At night she saw him regularly in her dreams, and now even in her daydreams, which she was slightly annoyed to find were becoming more...steamy as their time apart dragged on. There had been one night, though, which she still could not totally reconcile as fact or fiction: around a week after she'd returned from her last visit, she'd become aware of his presence in the night. She hadn't seen him, but she'd felt his hand stroke her hair and his lips lightly touch her cheek before she was shushed back to sleep. When she awoke later that night – perhaps for the second time, perhaps the first, she couldn't be sure – he was gone. If he had ever really been there at all. Probably not. That would mean sneaking into the barracks.

Whatever it had been, passion-dream or nighttime rendezvous, it had meant an end to her nights in the barracks for a while. Not because she was afraid it would happen again, she'd love nothing more, but it _had_ created some...problems for her thereafter. Her mind often revisited that night before she could get the better of it, and started to weave its own endings to the reunion cut too short by sleep. Needless to say, as the endings got more intense, the need for privacy became more important. And a barracks full of other soldiers was certainly not conducive to...a good night's rest. At least at the estate, her brother's room was a wing away, and servants weren't ones to snoop, even at sounds in the night.

She wondered what Urahara's message had meant. She knew what she hoped, but after all this time without so much as a glimpse of Ichigo, she thought it best not to start letting optimism win the day. She found herself wishing that Uryu would start up another extermination spree just for the excuse to go back there, but no such luck. Apparently, he'd found something else to occupy much of his time.

She supposed she could just take the initiative and make another trip to see him, but after overstaying the last time, her guilt dashed any hopes of that happening anytime soon. She shouldn't keep doing that to her Captain. She had a responsibility.

She giggled to herself as her mind turned to Renji, who had apparently told Ichigo something similar once, when he'd tried to see her just after regaining his powers. She hadn't known anything about the altercation until he came up to her after work one day and awkwardly apologized for it. Rangiku-_san_ had found out, it seemed, and, loaded up with some drink, had taken it upon herself to avenge the pair's lost chance at a reunion with much vigour. The bruises on his face told her the whole story, but didn't keep her from delivering a swift kick to his hindquarters when he'd finished his apology and turned to leave.

After that, things returned to normal between them, and were even better with Rangiku-_san_. She'd even rejoined her for a drink once, and dared to finally taste the sweet beverage she'd passed up before. She'd figured that it couldn't very well do anything to her dreams that hadn't already been done in the past little while. Still, she only took one swallow of it, letting Rangiku-_san_ finish the rest. That woman was a machine. She took in drink and pumped out questions like a vending machine took coins and gave snacks. But whenever questions of Rukia's love life came up, Rukia couldn't help feeling uncomfortable in her seat. Now that she knew about Rangiku's tragic past relationship with whoever-it-was, it felt too self-serving to discuss her own new-found happiness.

Rangiku-_san_ never seemed to mind, however. Rukia greatly admired the woman's ability to move forward, something she felt was missing in herself. She'd brush off Rukia's concerns by saying something about having her eyes on some "fresh meat". Rukia could never tell if the woman was joking or not. Even if not, it wasn't as if she could, in a thousand years, pin down who it might be; every man in Soul Society wanted Rangiku-_san_.

She thought that midnight had never seemed so far away as it had after she'd gotten the message.

_Damn that Urahara_, she thought bitterly. _Could he not have sent it closer to the appointed time?_

She realized what was making her so anxious and made her mind stop, again. She once again told herself that it wasn't going to be Ichigo. Desperate as she'd become in their time apart, that would be too good to be true.

Work. Work would take her mind off of it.

She stood up from her desk and gathered up a recently-finished stack of forms, exiting to Captain Ukitake's own office.

When she lightly knocked twice and opened the door, she was met with a clamour that nearly made her drop the sheaf of papers in her hands. Sentaro and Kiyone were rooted in front of the Captain's desk, their faces maybe an inch apart as they bellowed at one another.

"_I'll_ be the one to refill the Captain's fountain pen!" Sentaro roared, tugging at the pen, which they both had a death-grip on.

"Not a chance! You'll just end up breaking it!" yelled Kiyone, pulling the pen closer to her once more. They continued on like this, apparently completely oblivious to the small container of identical, working pens that sat at the corner of the Captain's desk. Of course, the Captain said nothing, merely smiling awkwardly and waving his hands in a "calm down, you two" gesture.

It took them a minute to notice that Rukia had entered, but when at last they did, they immediately straightened up, Sentaro puffing out his chest.

"Ah, Rukia-_san_, I'm glad you're here," Captain Ukitake piped up from behind them, sounding genuinely relieved at her arrival. The two quickly parted so that their Captain could properly look upon his Second Seat.

"Indeed. I've completed another series of forms, if you'd like them," said Rukia, bowing lightly.

"Oh my, all this paperwork done all by yourself. That's quite impressive, Rukia-_san_," Ukitake beamed.

He was a clever one. His words seemed to hit his Third Seats right in the chest, and both deflated. They exchanged an uneasy look, suddenly painfully aware of the amount of time they'd spent not doing their own work in favour of arguing. They spun around, bowed so low that they nearly hit their heads on Ukitake's desk, and departed, assuring him that they were getting to work right away.

"You know, Rukia-_san_," Ukitake began as he plucked a pen from the container to do his part in completing her forms, "I think you might be overdoing it." He was smiling as she placed the forms neatly before him.

"I'm fine, Sir, thank you," she replied, giving him another small bow. "To be honest, there isn't much else for me to do," she said. She hoped it hadn't sounded ungrateful.

Captain Ukitake made a sound of agreement as he nodded at the papers. "Yes, Hollow attacks have certainly died down since the War..." He paused and looked up. "Which reminds me, I've taken the liberty of recalling our representative in Karakura since Ichigo-_kun_'s powers have returned."

Rukia's scalp tightened. Why was he telling _her_? "Is that so?" she forced herself to say.

He nodded. "I'd very much like to speak with Ichigo-_kun_ if I could. I think the General would appreciate him being brought back up to speed now that he's returned to active duty," he explained.

But why was he explaining to Rukia? Did he know? How could he? Was this just some lead-in to a lecture about professionalism and caution?

Rukia realized she'd gone too quiet for too long and made herself nod.

"I take it that means you wouldn't mind fetching him for me?" she heard her Captain say.

"...Not at all," Rukia said through her shock after a pause that was too long.

Ukitake grinned and clapped his hands together. "Excellent!"

"And...when should I retrieve him for you, Sir?"

"Oh, whenever. It's not really a pressing issue, after all," he said, waving nonchalantly. Then he locked eyes with her. Knowing eyes. "Just let me know whenever you want to leave so I can clear it."

Was he –? Had he just –?

"Of course, Sir" was all she could say.

"Good, that's settled then," he said happily as he returned to his paperwork. "Now, don't overdo it, Rukia-_san_," he added as she turned to leave. She nodded before walking out.

* * *

A midnight chill made Rukia hug herself as she waited. Where was Urahara?

Then, suddenly, the air before her seemed alive, and yawned widely, revealing a mouth filled with white light. The maw spat out a person, who landed directly in front of her, before shrinking into a small pinprick of light that hovered behind him.

Ichigo came up to his full height, overshadowing her. He'd cut his hair, but only the back, so that it was the same length there it had been before. It was still long in the front, and almost hid one of his eyes as the breeze blew it slightly to one side.

Rukia slammed into him so hard that, when he hit the tree behind him, she was surprised he didn't break through it. There was none of the feverish kissing she'd expected to give him when they met again, because right then she just wanted to hold him. She squeezed his middle so tightly that she thought he winced a little, but she didn't stop. She felt him first rest his hand on top of her head before sliding it back so he could lean down to plant a gentle kiss there.

"I missed you," she said into his chest.

"Me too," he responded.

"How long has it been?" she asked. She had to, she honestly didn't know. Not only had her bringing a massive amount of work on herself served to distract her somewhat, but now all the days without him seemed to run together monotonously.

"Too long" was his reply. She laughed once at that before looking up into his eyes.

"What did Urahara send you for?"

"He didn't, I wanted to see you, so he helped out."

Ah, there was the feverish kissing. It lasted for not long enough before Ichigo broke it off.

"I actually came to give you something," he said as he reached over to the giant _zanpakuto_ which was stuck into the ground beside the tree. Tucked into the ribbons near its tip was a small piece of paper, which Ichigo plucked out and handed to her.

She opened it and read the odd arrangement of numbers. "Okay..."

"It's the address to the university I'm going to. I thought maybe you'd want to know where to find me," he said, sounding bashful.

Rukia couldn't believe it. Had the school year ended already? Had it been _that_ long? But these questions were quickly pushed aside by her expanding pride in him, the soon-to-be university student. She leaned up and let her tongue say _congratulations_ better than words could.

"I'm happy for you," she breathed as they disconnected again. Then he took on a rather sour expression.

"Don't be _too_ happy. Turns out, Uryu's going to the same one," he said grumpily. Rukia was only surprised for a moment before remembering how good Ichigo's grades actually were. He couldn't be too far behind Uryu in the rankings.

"Uryu's a good friend," she assured him. He'd proven that last time she'd seen him, when he'd been the reason for their reunion. Ichigo made a sound that may have expressed agreement, though he didn't look convinced.

"At least he's not living on campus. My room number's the last one on there," he added, tapping the fist in which she clenched the paper. She nodded her understanding.

"How long can you stay?" she asked.

"Long enough. It's not like my dad cares when I get back," he said.

Good.

She put her hands on both sides of his face and pulled it into a series of deep kisses as he placed his hand on the small of her back.

"I doubt it's going to be long enough," she panted before going back in. When they broke apart again, it was his turn to speak.

"You know we still can't –"

"I know," she said, and kissed him again.

"Sorry..."

"Shhhh..."


	14. Chapter 14

Rukia sat on the outcropping of Urahara _Shoten_, absently stretching the legs of her _gigai_. It had been a while since she'd been in one. Too long, it seemed. She knew she didn't really need one as far as Ichigo was concerned, but as she was visiting him at school for the first time, she'd thought it best if he not look crazy by talking to someone nobody else could see. After all, how many others could there be at his university who were spiritually aware?

She'd arrived maybe a half-hour earlier, only to be told that he still had a class to attend before they could spend time together. That was what she'd truly come for, though ostensibly it was to retrieve him for Captain Ukitake's debriefing. She still wasn't completely comfortable with her ulterior motives – she felt as though she was taking advantage . But he knew, right? He'd all but _told her_ to take some time to see Ichigo, hadn't he?

She hoped so.

"Hi, Rukia-_san_!" Yuzu Kurosaki's cheery voice rang out from right beside her, making her jump. She hadn't even noticed that the girl had sat down next to her. Her hair was longer now, styled in two pigtails.

"Oh, hello, Yuzu," Rukia replied. She couldn't help being a little nervous. Did Yuzu know why Rukia was here? Did she know what Rukia planned to do later?

Did Rukia?

"I haven't seen you in a while," Yuzu said in a chipper tone.

"Indeed, it's been quite some time." Rukia had been going to end with _Since I've been here_, but as that wasn't true, she'd just stopped short instead.

Yuzu turned her face to the sky as she began swinging her legs back and forth instead of letting them simply hang off the outcropping. "You're here to see _Nii-san_, right?"

Rukia's spine became a steel rod. "Y-yes," she answered truthfully. "It's official Soul Society business," she finished, not as truthfully as she'd started. She immediately hated that it sounded like such a rehearsed explanation.

"Rukia-_san_, are you _Nii-san_'s girlfriend?"

Rukia's face became very hot as she clutched at the hem of the sky blue sundress her _gigai_ was wearing. That was a very good question, one Rukia honestly could not answer.

"I...don't know if I'd say that..." was her reply.

"_Oh_," Yuzu exclaimed. Her tone was whiny and her expression the very definition of disappointment. "That's too bad, I think he really likes you."

God, was Ichigo _that _obvious?

"Oh. Well I guess...you might say – I mean, it's not – what I mean is...um...we _have _kissed," Rukia _finally_ confessed. She refrained from telling Yuzu just how well she knew the taste of her brother's mouth.

Yuzu squealed. "Really?!" she asked, taking both of Rukia's hands up in her own in a rather sisterly way. "That's great!"

It was? Well, that had certainly gone differently in her head.

"Tell me, Rukia-_san_, what kind of things do you do together?" Yuzu asked with all the innocence in the world. Either she really was that naive or she was trying to force out some incriminating confession that would haunt Rukia the rest of her days. Not that they'd done anything that drastic yet.

Just the thought of it made her redden even more.

"Well, we talk" _And kiss_ "and go on walks" _Then stop to kiss_ "and sometimes we just sit quietly and enjoy each other's company" _And lips. _"...Why do you ask?"

Jeez, were they really so single-minded?

"Oh, just curious, I guess," she told the sky, but Rukia noticed a blush rise in her cheeks.

"Is that so?" Rukia asked pressingly.

Yuzu brought her shoulders up as she fiddled with her fingers. "I think...I might have a boyfriend too," she said, right before slapping her hands over her reddening face.

"I see," said Rukia with a smirk, happy the tables had turned before she'd been incriminated. "Somebody from school?"

Yuzu frantically shook her head, her face still in her hands.

"Oi, Yuzu!" came a youthful but gravelly voice. Rukia looked to the source: Jinta. He jogged over to where they both sat as Yuzu slapped her hands back down to her lap, looking like she was forcing them to stay in place, as she focused on them instead of the boy who had called to her.

Jinta's hair no longer stood in three points and was tamed back, and he was quite a bit taller. He probably would have looked much more mature if he wasn't blushing and looking so nervous.

"Um...I'm done my work for today, so..." he began, then seemed to hopelessly stall. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, so Rukia did instead.

"Did you also remember to put prices on all that new candy you got?" she asked, and Yuzu seemed to snap out of it as she looked excitedly at the red-faced boy.

"Oh! You have new candy already? What kinds?" she asked. Jinta looked as if he'd been caught off-guard by her enthusiasm and remained frozen for a moment, before finally nodding stiffly.

"Wanna come see?" he asked in monotone. Yuzu nodded and popped up as Jinta turned with all the grace of a weather vane in the wind, leading her to the goods. As they walked, Rukia saw Yuzu take his hand, and noticed him shiver. In his back pocket – looking as though it had been placed with much care, as its little arms hung out as if it were going for a ride – was a small, home-made stuffed animal: a little green cat with buttons for eyes.

* * *

Urahara snapped his fingers, finally pulling Karin's eyes away from Rukia, where they'd been the past few minutes.

"Something wrong?" he asked. The girl had been on the other side of the table for a while now, but hadn't touched the tea he'd set out.

"Rukia-_san_ came here to take Ichi-_nii_ to Soul Society, right?" she asked suddenly. Urahara doubted very much that that was the actual reason, but he knew it was the excuse.

"Is that right?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "I would have thought they'd lost interest in him by now."

Karin fixed him with a very serious look, which at her age she probably shouldn't have been able to manage. "Don't play dumb, I know you and my dad helped give him his powers back."

Urahara said nothing, pretending to be distracted when he overheard Yuzu chattering excitedly about the new candies Jinta was showing her. He sighed, knowing that he was about to take a major hit when half the stock left the store at one-tenth of the price.

"How did you do it?" came Karin's serious voice.

Urahara realized that there was no use putting it off. "To be honest, we used a rather...unorthodox method," he told her.

Karin was silent for a long time, and Urahara had just about formulated his segue into excusing himself before she spoke again, picking her words carefully.

"...Would it work on me?"

He knew this had been coming, at not just since she'd asked to talk to him today. He removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair as he thought of the best way to respond.

"It's hard to say" was what he went with, and it was the truth. Sure, her powers had steadily increased in the past few years, but that didn't necessarily mean she was continuing the family legacy.

Though it didn't mean she wasn't, either.

"Your brother...is a special case," he continued.

Karin looked cast-fallen. "I know," she admitted. Now she spoke into the table. "But I also know that he's fighting again. He doesn't do it as much as he used to, but every so often I feel it," she explained, worry creeping into her voice. "I can sense when he fights those..._things_, yet all I can do is sit at home and worry until I see him again."

Urahara rapped on the tabletop twice with his finger to once again grab her attention. "Karin-_chan_, you know your father wouldn't approve of me letting you get into trouble," he explained gently. She nodded sorrowfully.

"He's one too, right? Like my brother."

"He was, yes."

"He doesn't think I can do it too?" she asked. She sounded more hurt than Urahara had expected.

"He's your father, he worries about you," said Urahara in a calming voice.

"But I used to – with Don Kanonji, I mean. I did okay..." she said, turning away from him again.

"Being a _Shinigami_ is very different, I'm afraid."

"Are you one too, Urahara-_san_?" she asked suddenly, her eyes finding his.

Urahara didn't fight his smirk. She was a shrewd one. "That was a long time ago," he admitted.

At his answer, Karin's eyes widened a moment. "Really? But you're always such a goof," she said in surprise. Had she even _expected_ him to say yes, or had she just been shooting in the dark?

Rather than showcase his disappointment in the unfair categorization, he instead deflected it with "And your father isn't?"

That gave her pause, alright. She smirked a bit too.

"Were you both very strong, like my brother?"

"I guess you could say that."

"So just how strong is he?" she asked. He thought she was probably working her way to asking how she might become as strong.

Well, he guessed there was no harm in telling her. Isshin probably wouldn't mind, right?

"Let me tell you about the _Gotei_ 13..."

* * *

Even if Ichigo hadn't _needed_ to use _bankai_, he was certainly furious enough to do so anyway. This damn Hollow! Coming out of nowhere, right when Rukia and he were –

At the moment, Aizen seemed like a high school bully in comparison to the evil of this...whatever-it-was. Ichigo had forgotten what Toshiro had called them, _Adju_-somethings. Whatever. They were the stronger ones, the leaders of the _Gillian_. He remembered only being told that they were smaller, stronger and smarter, and this guy had already proven to be those things, in spades. And he was especially fast.

Ichigo might not have even needed his _bankai_ if the damn thing wasn't so quick. It knocked him on his ass before he'd even got in his first hit, and easily slipped past the tidal wave of ice Rukia had sent its way. You could only see it about half the time.

But when the thing had backhanded Rukia and sent her sailing across the street, the gloves were off. He activated his _bankai _without a second thought. He wanted the speed boost just to catch her before she hit the pavement as much as to take the thing down. But oh, how he wanted to do it now. _So _much. Too much; his head ached with the speed at which the blood rushed to his head. He set her down a good distance away before returning in a flash to stand before that _absolute piece of shit_.

His_ bankai_ felt different now, but that didn't matter, so long as it worked. He _did_ care to notice that Tensa Zangetsu now had some extra reach, which he took full advantage of as he pressed the Hollow relentlessly.

Funny, it didn't seem all that fast anymore.

But it was still quick enough to dodge a few strikes, though its own attacks were no longer of any concern. It was a stalemate, and Ichigo couldn't help feeling ashamed at that. He should have been able to end something like this using _bankai_ without much trouble, but only found himself getting in shallow slashes and knock-backs. Then he realized that maybe he was enjoying hurting the thing. No, he _definitely_ was. It deserved every bit of it, after all.

And that thought scared Ichigo, enough so that the Hollow's fist grazed his cheek before he sped away.

_Stop it, don't be like _him.

It was time to put an end to this.

Ichigo grasped Tensa Zangetsu's hilt with both hands, and noticed it already felt hot. He briefly wondered if he even needed to say the words or just let his anger do it for him.

He decided to say them anyway.

"_Getsuga...TENSHO_!"

The Hollow vanished, but hadn't been hit. It had dodged the black crescent, and suddenly reappeared only a short distance from Ichigo. Good, but not good enough.

Ichigo yanked Tensa Zangetsu closer, and like a fish at the end of a line, the black crescent suddenly reversed direction to follow it. The Hollow only had enough time to look upon its impending doom before it was cut neatly in half, its torso taking leave of its legs at the waist. Then, it was nothing.

"_Nii-sama_..." came Rukia's stunned voice from behind. Ichigo turned and had been about to ask _What_ when he noticed Byakuya Kuchiki, stiff as ever, gliding toward his adopted sister.

* * *

Ichigo Kurosaki's _bankai _had certainly changed.

There was still a black, red-lined coat, but it was draped over his shoulders rather than worn, leaving the sleeves to hang empty at the sides. It stayed in place by way of a small, four-link black chain near the standing collar. His entire torso and arms, save for the shoulders, were wrapped in pitch black bandages, with two blood red ones crisscrossing his chest to make a large "X" in the center.

The sword was more or less the same: a thin longsword, black from end to end, with a guard in the shape of the "_Ban_" character. There was only one small difference: where a length of black chain had been before, only two small rings came off the hilt's end. The first was black as night, and the one linked to it was white as snow.

Byakuya pulled his attention up from the sword to look Ichigo straight in the staunchly determined face. "Well done," he allowed.

"Hey, Byakuya," Ichigo replied, though his greeting was less than friendly. No matter. He wasn't here to see an old friend.

"_Nii-sama_, what are you doing here?" he heard Rukia aske from beside him. The shock in her tone was very unlike her. Very unbecoming of a Kuchiki.

"I merely came as a precaution, in case Ichigo Kurosaki failed to slay the Hollow," he explained. He didn't bother to catch his sister's expression, but Ichigo's was...indignant.

"Thanks, but I can handle myself," he said rather boastfully as he swung his sword up to rest across his shoulders.

"I see. I meant no offence. I only wanted to be sure Rukia was safe. Your powers had only recently returned, after all. It was uncertain whether or not your _bankai_ had retained its former potency," he explained, not altogether lying.

"But _Nii-sama_, didn't Captain Ukitake trust me to assist Ichigo?" Rukia asked, sounding more than a little disappointed.

"In fact, he did. It was I who volunteered to go, regardless. This was an _Adjuchas_, after all."

Ichigo Kurosaki continued to look less-than-welcoming. "Yeah, well, we're fine. Thanks, Byakuya. Sorry you had to come here for nothing," he said, turning to leave.

"It wasn't for nothing. I also came to retrieve my sister."

Ichigo Kurosaki froze. "Has she done something wrong?" he asked without facing him. Byakuya took note of the hostility in his tone. He didn't care for it.

"Nothing aside from spending far too much time here accomplishing a simple task. I'm sure you're aware that Captain Ukitake wishes to see you, Ichigo Kurosaki. My sister was sent here only to facilitate that meeting, and yet she's been here for hours." He afforded his sister a look, which he made sure said to her all that he couldn't just then.

"Well, I was busy. She was just being thorough," Ichigo Kurosaki defended, weakly. Byakuya had his suspicions, and the boy's words rang false in his ears.

But now was not the time to argue pointlessly.

"Come, Rukia," he commanded, turning away from Ichigo Kurosaki to take his leave. He was acutely aware when his sister did not follow. "Now."

The word had been enough, as he'd expected. Rukia's light footfalls followed in his wake as he continued on.

A second later, Ichigo Kurosaki's hand was on his shoulder. He was still so insolent.

"Don't" was all he said. He'd managed to fit quite a lot of anger in only the one word. It seethed with it.

"I'm only doing my duty, so you'll have to excuse me."

"Bullshit," the boy cursed. Byakuya didn't have time to fully appreciate how uncouth it had been before he continued. "If Ukitake wanted her back, he could have just contacted her himself."

"I suggest you remove your hand, Ichigo Kurosaki," Byakuya said, ignoring his words. Instead of heeding him, the boy only tightened his grip.

Byakuya was behind Ichigo in no time, but was not fast enough to do anything other than parry the boy's swing with his own _zanpakuto_. The anger that rang from the black sword's blade was palpable.

"Now is not the time for this," said Byakuya simply, pushing the blade away. He took notice of his sister's worried expression and felt secure in the fact that the boy would not continue to press the issue, so long as she was present. Because he too took notice of her, and lowered his sword a little. Byakuya took the chance to sweep past him.

"Your invitation to meet with Captain Ukitake stands," Byakuya informed him, against his better judgement. "If you truly feel you must see Rukia again, I suppose you might do so during that time."

And that, he hoped, would be the only time he'd do so.

Byakuya ignored his sister's backward glance at Ichigo as he led her home.


	15. Chapter 15

Ichigo was a complete moron.

He laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling of his university dorm room, as he'd done now for maybe hours without moving. Just thinking. And regretting.

He knew he could have fought harder to keep her – _should _have – but in the end he'd let Byakuya just walk away. Why?! Didn't she mean more to him than that? Didn't she deserve a more tenacious defence from the guy who was basically her boyfriend now?

_Boyfriend_. Ichigo shivered nervously. Or maybe it had been with disgust at himself.

Boyfriends told their girlfriends when they loved them.

Ichigo palmed his forehead so hard that he actually hurt himself enough to illicit a grunt. He could not believe he still hadn't said the words to her. It was true that she knew, because she'd been the one to confront him about it; and he was positive that every kiss he gave her carried the message, but he knew it wasn't the same. He felt cold inside and hated himself for forgetting time and again to give his feelings a voice.

He'd accepted that there was no better, or nobler, excuse than simple forgetfulness. He'd really meant to tell her, more than once, but it was hard to talk with your mouth full. And when they got into the swing of things, everything else would fall right out of his _stupid_ head, including really important things. In the whirlwind of passion, he'd lost sight of the meaning behind it. She was just so damn _cute_. No, more than that.

It didn't even matter to Ichigo that she too had neglected to say it. After all, it was the guy's job to go first, wasn't it? He was pretty sure it was. He was still so new to it all that could only assume certain things, and maybe he was wrong, but it felt like the right thing to do, to be the first.

What if she'd been waiting the entire time for him to say it? What if every time she visited him, it was so she could entice him into finally spitting it out? And he hadn't. Dammit! How could he do this to her?! He was the worst maybe-boyfriend in the history of them, however far back that might span. He didn't even deserve _maybe-boyfriend_, he felt like less than even that. He didn't even deserve...

"_So you figured it out_," came a familiar voice from somewhere deep inside him. Anyone else might instantly fear having spontaneously developed a mental disorder upon hearing the gruff voice of an older man in their head, but Ichigo couldn't help but feel relieved. He closed his eyes...

Zangetsu stood across from him on the angled skyscraper, looking placid in the light sunset snowfall. Ichigo instantly resented his peacefulness, given his own hours-long stint with turmoil. And if he'd known something the whole damn time, why just speak up now?

Zangetsu seemed to read Ichigo's mind – _Of course_, he thought – and locked eyes with him, so intense that they were clearly visible behind his angular sunglasses.

"It was something you had to discover yourself, Ichigo," said Zangetsu, sounding much like a father sternly lecturing his young son.

"We let him go?" Ichigo asked. He noticed Zangetsu's hard expression and amended his thought. "I let him go?"

Zangetsu gave a solemn nod. So, at least he felt a little bad. "There was nothing any of us could do once your heart wasn't in it," he said as he approached Ichigo. The ambiguous phrasing of _any of us_ rather than _either of us_ clearly meant to refer also to Tensa Zangetsu. Ichigo was still kind of confused as to whether they were truly separate from one another, the old man and the kid.

"That's why Byakuya could block my Tensa Zangetsu," Ichigo sadly inferred, remembering how easy it had been done with the man's _zanpakuto _still sealed. Zangetsu nodded once more.

"If you'd truly wanted to stop him, you would have," he said simply.

He was right. Ichigo hadn't even told her he loved her, so how could he be expected to lay any sort of claim to her time, or attention? He had been pulling her away from her duties, and for what? So he could play boyfriend-girlfriend with all the commitment of a child? In the instant Byakuya arrived, that's how he had felt: like a little boy. Maybe it was because Byakuya was not only older, but experienced. He'd even been married, after all. Whatever the reason, he'd made Ichigo feel suddenly far less important...or made him realize he _was_.

And so he'd let him take her away, because it was easier than having her end the game and leave the little boy alone. She was probably grateful for Byakuya's interference. It was likely easier than having to let down the man who couldn't even confess his love.

"But I love her." Ichigo immediately realized that he was no longer talking to Zangetsu, but to Byakuya, and all-too-late.

A powerful gust of wind suddenly kicked up, swirling the falling snow around Zangetsu, enveloping him in it. His coat billowed and danced, but he remained still in the center of it all. And he smiled.

"Then go to her," he said.

Of course! How could he be so dumb? He'd totally forgotten what Byakuya had said about Ukitake's invitation still standing. He'd been so wrapped up in his own moping that he hadn't realized that _this _was his chance.

One he was not going to waste.

* * *

It felt odd now to be under the light of day in Soul Society. It was the first time in three years he'd been there without the cover of night, and he felt rather naked. For once, he hoped everyone he passed in _Seireitei_ stared at him because of his status as a war hero and not because they could read the sadness, shame, or nervousness in his eyes.

Ichigo had never made his way around the different barracks of the _Gotei_ 13 before, but they were organized rather simply, and he did know enough to avoid the Eleventh Division like the plague as he tried to hide his _reiatsu_ just in case. It was the one thing Urahara-_san _had showed him before shoving him through his personal portal the first time, or as he had called it, "the inter-dimensional marriage meeting window". He was still pretty bad at it, but he thought it was kind of like sucking in your stomach, except it built up pressure behind his eyes.

11...12...

Just the sight of the building sent his carefully-restrained _reiatsu_ spilling back out as he momentarily forgot himself. He knew she'd know he was there after that. Still, he forced his legs to take him into the barracks proper, unwilling as they were to comply.

As he entered the peaceful-looking, manicured courtyard, in the center of which was a large pond, he was accosted by a couple of _Shinigami_ he didn't recognize, looking sour.

"Halt! What business do you have here? I've never seen you before," said one of them, who had a mustache. Ichigo sighed as he tapped the badge hanging from his _shihakusho_'s sash impatiently with his finger.

"Deputy _Shinigami_ Ichigo Kurosaki," he said, the words falling from his mouth awkwardly. Pulling rank was a weird thing, especially since that rank didn't always seem to mean anything.

Thankfully, this time it did. The two _Shinigami _eyed the badge for a second before nodding and letting him by. He had to admit, he was surprised that it had actually worked, for once.

It wasn't long after he'd stepped past the threshold of the complex that the excited pattering started up, growing louder as it neared him. A second later, both of Ukitake's crazy Third Seats stood before him, the cute one in the gloves and the intense guy with the goatee. They looked both shocked and excited, though he doubted that was out of the ordinary for any given circumstance those two found themselves in.

"Ichigo Kurosaki! Our Captain's been waiting for you!" bellowed the goatee guy. What was his name again?

"Uh...okay, good," Ichigo blathered numbly. He hadn't really come to see Ukitake, but from his experience he knew that where the Captain was, the vice-Captain usually was too. At least, that's how it was with Kenpachi. And the scary clown guy and his robot daughter or whatever.

He let the two of them lead him to an office with a closed door, which they needlessly bowed before.

"Captain! Ichigo Kurosaki is finally here to see you!" they both said in unison. Ichigo thought irritably that they hadn't needed to add the _finally_. Or said it all so loudly. He wanted to see Rukia more than anything, but at the same time he felt hopelessly unready. What if she'd overheard them?

"Ah! Wonderful, send him in," Ukitake's bright tone issued through the door. The two goofballs bowed again and stayed bent as they filed backwards out of the hallway, greatly surprising Ichigo by not running into anything. It took him a minute to get up the courage, but at last he opened the door.

He'd definitely not built up enough courage.

Rukia was right there, standing beside Ukitake's desk with a stack of papers held tightly against her chest, looking (he hoped) as bewildered as he felt. She looked almost as if she had posed herself to look busy before he came in, but was now choking under the pressure of her new audience. She stayed so still...

"Ichigo-_kun_, how nice to see you again," Ukitake said, reluctantly pulling Ichigo's attention away from the man's frozen Second Seat. His smile was as warm and inviting as ever.

"Uh...yeah..."

_Smooth._

"Don't look so nervous, this is just a formality," Ukitake waved. "The General would be very ill-at-ease if he thought you were running around again without any sort of guidance," he explained, trying to be calming. But Ichigo's nervousness had nothing to do with whatever it was Ukitake was chatting about.

"Right. Yes. Okay."

_Wow, you're on a roll_.

Ichigo started paying real attention just in time to catch Ukitake look conspiratorially at his vice-Captain, who failed to notice as her attention was elsewhere. What was he planning?

"Now, I believe Rukia-_san_ has some papers for you to sign in her office," Ukitake said suddenly, making both Ichigo and Rukia jump. Rukia looked lost as her attention finally turned to her Captain, who merely smiled reassuringly at her. "Well, go ahead, Rukia-_san_. You can handle it from here."

Ichigo loved this man. If he wasn't planning on spending all of his precious courage telling Rukia, he'd definitely throw one out there for Ukitake.

Rukia nodded slowly as her Captain's deviousness dawned on her, then silently led Ichigo back out of the office and a short ways down the hall to another, smaller one. She shut the door behind her.

_Click_.

"Ichigo, I..." Rukia began, but her words seemed to catch in her throat. Before Ichigo could take his turn, she finished with "I'm sorry."

What?

She pressed on. "When _Nii-sama_ came to get me...I didn't...he was right and...the Captain, he – I shouldn't have left..."

_What_? Was she actually apologizing to _him_ for leaving? Ichigo had to suppress the excited relief that bubbled up inside him, knowing that he'd misjudged her thoughts about him. He simultaneously fought to keep a lid on the urge to take her up in his arms and shower her with affection. He felt better right then than he had when he'd defeated Aizen.

"It's okay, I'm glad you left," he said without thinking. When the words hung in the air between them for long enough for him to register them, he kicked himself. Rukia looked on the brink of tears.

"What I mean is..." Ichigo added in a rush. "Because you left, I was able to get some thinking done."

Rukia kept silent. She looked, for some reason, like she was being told a horror story. Uh-oh. Could it be that she thought –?

Ichigo stopped stopping himself. He rushed over to her and grasped her arms maybe a little too tightly, so he slid them up to gently cup her face in his hands. She looked as confused as she did sad. He hated that he thought it was so adorable anyway...

"I love you, Rukia."

He'd wanted to punctuate what he said with a kiss, but didn't. This needed to stand on its own.

Ichigo's palms were wet. Tears were streaming down Rukia's face, but she wasn't smiling. Oh god, this was just like before, when –

"I love you too," she said – well, mouthed. Her voice was so strangled in the wake of tears that he could barely hear her at all. But he knew it anyway.

They both stood like that for who-knew-how-long. Then, finally, Ichigo leaned in for a kiss. And she accepted.

Just one. And it was deeper, and longer, and simpler than its predecessors, but meant so much more.

It was perfect.


	16. Chapter 16

So, how had he gotten here?

Time to think on that was fleeting as Ichigo tumbled to the right, narrowly avoiding a swarm of pink death that made ribbons of his left sleeve. His face stung as the air rushed past it and he bet it was riddled with cuts, but didn't let that distract him.

_Bankai_ was doing him a great service in terms of keeping him in one piece, but the petals seemed to grow ever faster as he saw Byakuya, from the corner of his eye, conducting them like one would an orchestra, building to a crescendo of Ichigo's eventual defeat. He was actually breaking a sweat at this point, something he'd not done before while in _bankai_. Could Byakuya really be trying harder than he had against the likes of the _Espada_? Was he _that _pissed?

Ichigo couldn't understand why. He'd thought his confession to Rukia might actually fix things, but he only seemed to become a greater threat in Byakuya's eyes. How had he even found out? Ichigo had barely finished walking Rukia home after work when he was attacked. Maybe something had been said before that, he couldn't be sure. Everything, up to and including now, was a wild blur.

Thinking cost him big. He had only just felt the chill of the surprisingly cool blades wrapping around his right leg, when suddenly it felt like he'd stepped into a wood-chipper. He thought he could do nothing but scream futilely, except that it apparently caused enough _reiatsu_ to rush out of him that it knocked the blades back long enough for him to leap away. By the time their pursuit closed the distance again, he'd regained enough focus to swat each one away with a well-placed swing of Tensa Zangetsu. Then, he wheeled around as he let the hot sensation burning at his palm fly.

"_GETSUGA TENSHO_."

Byakuya vanished behind a hastily self-built wall of pink, which took the brunt of the raging black crescent. Then it stopped being a wall and was instead an angry...thing that had just been cut, because it poured forth in a massive wave to retaliate. Ichigo proved too fast for it, though, and it hit only the ground of the Kuchiki estate courtyard. Their battle was surprisingly contained. If it hadn't been for the smallness of Ichigo's _bankai_ and the utter control Byakuya had over his, things might have gotten much uglier.

Ichigo willed up another _Getsuga Tensho_, but let it smoulder in his hand rather than let it loose. Tensa Zangetsu quivered with the bottled up power as Ichigo made a mighty leap toward the petals' conductor. As he expected, a long collection of petals snaked their way up to meet him, lashing out like the tongue of some hungry giant beast. So Ichigo braced his sword in front of himself and let them sail together into the serpent, parting it as easily as warm butter.

Ichigo caught sight of Byakuya for only an instant, long enough to see the man clap his hands. The petals started to come together behind him as quickly as he split them in front. Just as he felt them start to hook at the back of his coat, he reached the end. He burst out of the pink mass like an emerging cicada, but rather than dropping his blade on the enemy now in his sights, he threw it behind him, sending it twirling away into the newly reformed snake of blades, which it again cut apart.

He popped up with a punch, and Byakuya had no time to summon his petals forth to defend. Perfect. The noble was forced to block with his hand, but it was just that. Sure, it was the hand of a Captain, but Ichigo's was more: a mass of tightly-packed _reiatsu_, like a ball of wrought iron. He felt Byakuya's bones pop at the impact and gleefully took in his contorted expression, but he knew his time was up.

He sprung away just before a screen of petals rushed in between them.

Good, he still felt it, in the back of his head.

The _Getsuga Tensho_ of his _bankai_ followed his mental directions, which meant that the one he'd left contained in his sword would do the same. He hoped.

A portal opened up in the pink screen that Byakuya could watch Ichigo through, before the mass started sloughing off small bunches and firing them toward him like bullets. Each hit felt like getting a paper cut in-between your fingers, except all over, and with pain that renewed itself in waves every split second. Ichigo fell to his knees and roared.

Then the pain stopped. Well, it stopped repeating, anyway. Ichigo's vision swam as he looked to where Byakuya had been assaulting him from. There was something jammed in the petal wall...but he couldn't...

Ichigo had to blink twice to see that Tensa Zangetsu had indeed answered his mental call, no doubt thanks to the _Getsuga Tensho_ it still held. Amazingly, his plan had actually worked! But there was no time to celebrate.

Ichigo pushed past the screaming pain in his...everywhere, and darted to the sword, whose hilt stuck out of the petals like a splinter. Byakuya had closed the window he'd made to catch it before it could reach him, and so didn't immediately notice Ichigo's desperate, _shunpo_-assisted thunder-run. Then he did, but it was just in time for Ichigo's masterstroke.

Ichigo didn't grab the hilt so much as jump toward it then use it to stop himself, nearly swinging around on it. And once it was in his hand, so was the battle. For a half-second, he felt the wall buckle, and then –

"_Getsuga Tensho_!"

The energy trapped within the blade exploded forth, and the hilt cooled even as Ichigo gripped it. The ground beneath Ichigo quivered, as did the petal wall before it collapsed in a hissing shower. Byakuya stood stalk still behind it, a hole blown in the right side of his _shihakusho_ near the shoulder, revealing a deep red underneath and nothing else. No flesh was visible, only blood. His expression was one of exhausted shock, as if he'd been holding a look of surprise for days which was now beginning to sag. Blood trickled down his limp right arm to drip loudly onto the cobblestone below, its singular noise the only remnant of their epic clash, ended only moments ago.

Ichigo felt no pride in this victory, not like he usually did. This hadn't been a fight he'd wanted to start _or _end, because a win or a loss meant the same thing: it would hurt Rukia. Byakuya rocked on his heels and Ichigo let Tensa Zangetsu hit the ground so he could catch him, but the man pushed him away with a strength Ichigo was surprised he could still muster. He seemed to steady himself as he closed his eyes, then turned weakly and made the beginnings of a slow trek into the mansion behind him.

"Byakuya, wait, you gotta see Unohana-_san_," Ichigo said, still frozen in his catching stance.

"There are trained personnel prepared for this sort of thing here," Byakuya said coldly, referring to the estate.

Ichigo hastily scooped up his sword and jogged up beside the limping Captain. "Shut up. Don't be so stubborn, alright? Jeez."

Byakuya's eyes bored into Ichigo's heart. "Do not act as though this has settled anything between us. I did not cease fighting because I conceded to you, Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Ichigo in a bored way. "I just don't want you dying, got it? Rukia would kill me."

Mention of Rukia seemed to send Byakuya into a pensive state, where he stayed a moment. "You intend to keep pursuing my sister," he said rather than asked.

"I don't like the word _pursuing_, but I'm not gonna stop seeing her," Ichigo responded without giving Byakuya's expression his attention.

"That is where you are wrong, Ichigo Kurosaki."

"What are you talking about now?" Ichigo asked irritably.

"You will eventually stop seeing her. It is the fate of any separated by two worlds." Ichigo could tell that Byakuya spoke from experience.

"You didn't let that stop you," he pointed out, hooking his arm around Byakuya to support him as he limped. When the man tried to pull away, Ichigo steeled his grip.

"True, but I married Hisana. That was how I ensured that we would be together."

What? Was he seriously suggesting –?

"Don't misunderstand," Byakuya went on as if he'd just read Ichigo's mind. "I'm merely pointing out that at your young age, the power to maintain contact with Rukia is beyond you...eventually, you will grow apart. That is the way of things."

Ichigo groaned. "You're starting to sound like Renji," he whined as they walked.

"Then I chose my vice-Captain wisely," Byakuya replied. "You say you love my sister, but have done nothing you prove it. Perhaps it is because you too sense that your relationship is doomed."

_Doomed?_

"Shut up, will ya? The fact that I was here to fight you should be enough," Ichigo said, as much to himself as to Byakuya.

"You were only here because of Ukitake's invitation, which is no longer extended to you. You may be a _Shinigami_, but that is as close as you are destined to come to Rukia."

Ichigo eased Byakuya up the mansion steps before letting the servants who rushed out handle him. He looked sourly at the large patch of blood that now stained his _shihakusho_.

_What an ungrateful bastard_.

"If I were you, I'd take my leave before the Captain-General hears of your actions this afternoon," Byakuya called back across the hall he was being led down. It sounded more like a threat than a piece of advice to Ichigo.

But it was still good advice. The old man probably wouldn't appreciate hearing that, during his first official trip back to Soul Society, Ichigo had injured one of his Captains in a petty duel. Damn. But where was Rukia? He needed to say goodbye to her before he left.

* * *

He found her in what had to be her room. It was huge, with a four-poster bed with curtains that looked like it could comfortably fit Ichigo's entire family. She sat on its edge, looking deeply depressed about something. He silently came to sit next to her, laying his hand on hers.

"Rukia..."

"I think you should go, Ichigo," she said. He couldn't read the tone. Was she angry with him about how he'd handled her brother?

"Rukia, listen, we just –"

"You don't have to explain yourself. I'm not mad at you," she said, but Ichigo was unconvinced. He removed his hand when hers remained still under it.

"Stop it. What's wrong? Talk to me," he asked, trying hard not to sound like he was pleading.

She continued to look at the wall. "I just need some time to myself. I'm not mad. Please, just go."

This was a lost battle. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek before rising. "I'll come see you again, okay?"

Nothing.

"I'll get Urahara to send you another message."

Nothing; only this time he'd said it without expectation.

He wanted to end with _I love you_, but was too afraid that she still wouldn't answer.

So he left.


	17. Chapter 17

As she heard her Soul Pager vibrate for the umpteenth time that afternoon, Rukia was still as amazed as ever at how much Urahara had pulled through, with only two words to go on.

_Help me._

She'd sent him that text one night out of desperation, around a month after she and Ichigo had last parted after his duel with Byakuya. For a whole month, she'd tried to convince herself that nothing could be done, and it was better that way. She really couldn't talk to him or see him. What could she say? That his duel with her brother had caused her to seriously consider resigning from her position so that they could spend their time together uninterrupted? That if she'd allowed him to sit on her bed with her and talk any longer, she might very well have been completely overcome and run away with him right then and there? That she'd asked him to leave out of selfishness and fear?

She shuddered at these thoughts. She couldn't, wouldn't, force her problems on him like that. He was the kind of man who shouldered everything for everybody who needed him to, at the expense of his own peace. It was one of the reasons she'd fallen for him in the first place. Plus, what would he think? She didn't want to think about that either, so she'd tried to make herself believe a lie, that things were better as they were. But crying yourself to sleep every night could only be looked at with so much optimism before you realized you were an idiot. Rukia's optimism ran dry at the four-week mark.

And two words to Urahara later, she had her chance to talk to Ichigo without having to see him, without having to deal with the temptation. She needed to get _something_ to him before he got it in his noble head that they should meet, so it wouldn't look like just a consolation prize when she couldn't. Urahara apparently gave his corresponding Soul Pager, which he used to contact her, to Ichigo, with instructions for him to wait for the message he'd told her to write beforehand. She wrote it in a rush, only remembering for sure that it had ended with _I love you_. Not saying that when he'd left had torn her apart, and she hated to think what it had done to him.

The hour after the message sent was the longest one in the past four weeks, and for the last of it she'd been convinced that she'd blown it. Then it finally happened – and just when she'd looked away from it too: the phone vibrated.

_I miss you. I love you. Can we meet somewhere?_

_That_ had taken him a whole _hour_? He hadn't even asked her why she'd left things the way she had, like she'd been dreading. She might have been furious if she hadn't been so damn ecstatic. She figured that the big goof had probably struggled with what to say before settling on the simplest solution. And she knew that he was sticking to his personal coda of _If you didn't tell me, then you obviously had a reason, and I won't ask_. That seemed like him for sure. It was another reason she loved him.

So she had let it go, saving the text so she could revisit the _I love you_ he'd written, which she did every night thereafter.

She'd had to come up with some horrible excuse about being swamped with work and even exaggerated her Captains state of illness just so she wouldn't be tempted to meet him. Of course, he took everything she said at face value without question and didn't ask again. God, she didn't deserve him sometimes.

Her resolve stayed strong into the second month of their correspondence, which had become a constant, day-and-night affair. The vibrations of her Soul Pager were the one thing aside from a call from her Captain that could pull her away from paperwork, and did so instantly. At first she'd worried that she was being less productive, even though she still toiled away ever moment she wasn't reading or replying. But Ukitake seemed to actually _encourage_ her new pace, as he'd told her once that he was glad to see her starting to relax. In the past she might have spent time feeling bad about making him think she needed to relax, but she couldn't waste any more time away from her Soul Pager than absolutely necessary. And _necessary_ quickly became nearly impossible for anything but her Captain to achieve.

It was funny what now took precedence over nearly everything else in her life, because it was mostly nothing. For the most part, they simply chatted to each other about their days, her about work, him about school. It seemed to be going well for him, though that was no surprise. Sometimes they wrote nothing more or less than how much they hated being apart, and somehow they seemed closer because of it. Of course, at night, their conversations took a different turn, and she was often grateful that he couldn't see her blush.

And every one ended with _I love you_, not just the ones at the end of the night.

By the end of the second month's second week, though, she'd started to crack, without really realizing it. Her fingers had somehow worked in hints at her upcoming vacation time seemingly without her knowledge. If it had come up casually in conversation, or if she had just brought it up one day, or if he had pulled it out of her somehow, she couldn't remember. Whatever the case, every member of the _Gotei_ 13 had leaves of absence during the year at a predetermined time, and she was no exception. Even high-ranking soldiers needed a break once in a while.

Soon enough, every seven days she'd found herself ending their nightly conversations with a reminder that her time off was a week closer. But by then she supposed it was okay. She had these conversations to keep him close to her, so if in a few months she allowed herself to see him again, just for a couple of days, she could probably hold it together. Hopefully.

* * *

Of course, she was wrong.

Not two minutes after her arrival, everything became a whirlwind. They spent the entire afternoon wrapped in each other's arms, with no words to say for all the furious kissing they did. Their time apart had done more to them than they thought, which became shockingly clear by the time dusk set in, and Ichigo eventually snaked his fingers in between the folded front of Rukia's _shihakusho_, surprising even her. The sensation of his fingertips riding up her ribs was enough to bring her to the edge of losing it. Then, in the heat of the moment, when the folded layers finally came loose and fell away from each other, Ichigo froze.

The look on his face, adorably bewildered, let her know that he likely hadn't realized he'd started feeling her up that much. Of course, it could have easily been that his gaze had caught on her exposed _sarashi_, but then he started to look...ashamed. She could tell there was a conflict of interest between body and mind, because she could feel his obvious...enthusiasm.

He immediately rolled off of and away from her, his face so red that it gave Jinta's hair some good competition. As cute as she thought it was how he always acted like the ways of men were a mystery to her that he'd accidentally blown, she deeply wanted him to take charge and continue. But as the moments passed and the heat he'd left on her took its leave, she was forced to close her _shihakusho_ once more. She resigned herself to sliding closer to him on his _futon_ and spooning him from behind, as he refused to look at her.

That night, she ached to have him so badly that she had to consciously stop herself from straddling him when he rolled over onto his back, still asleep. She cursed him for being so noble, but that didn't stop her from at least climbing atop him to let his heartbeat and warmth soothe her to sleep. As soon as she was on-board, his arms wrapped around her, so tenderly that she actually felt her throat start to itch like she had to cry. She whispered his name once, but he was dead to the world. He'd held on to her out of reflex, and as she reciprocated, that thought was enough to last her until sleep finally overtook her.

* * *

On the morning of Rukia's second day of leave, Ichigo was roused from a dead sleep by tender kisses dancing along his neck. Was she on top of him already?

He was immediately, painfully aware that something else had risen with the morning sun, and hoped that she didn't think he was being forward. It wasn't his fault, he was a guy, after all.

Thankfully, she was at least sitting on his stomach instead of his hips. As he opened his eyes, she instantly changed course and let her kisses find his mouth. So that was their _good morning_, and he thought it beat words anyway.

He got up and proceeded with his usual morning routine even though he planned on being sick all day and miss classes. It was mostly so he could get himself to...calm down enough to look her in the eye when he came out of the washroom. It took too long to look casual by the time he finally did.

She took her turn as he changed clothes, but came out when he was still in the process of pulling on his pants. It was a stupid reaction to freeze rather than speed up, but he did it anyway. The look on her face was unreadable for the split second he saw it, before she slammed the door shut again. Only _then_ did he finish dressing with haste, and he internally chided his body for its mismatched priorities.

When he knocked on the door to let her know it was safe to come out without losing her visual innocence, he thought he heard the distinct sound of teeth being brushed. But he lived by himself, and she didn't know her way around...

Had she brought one with her? He didn't remember her arriving with things, not that he confirmed much of anything before pretty much pouncing on her.

But that meant...

Rukia let him believe that she had indeed commandeered his toothbrush until his unease got in the way of what she was trying to do with him. He had underestimated her. She had in fact found the spares he'd bought before moving in and kept in the drawer under the sink. She could be so devious sometimes. Was it weird that he thought that was sexy? It felt kind of weird.

The day faded away without them as they alternated between kissing, _really_ kissing, and talking. They talked about much the same things as they did via Soul Pager, only in person he could stroke her hair and hold her hand and run the back of his fingers down her cheek as they did.

When she brought up the subject of possibly quitting the _Gotei_ 13, Ichigo was more than a little shocked.

"But you're a vice-Captain now."

"I'm lonely all the time."

"...Me too. Want me to quit school and come back to Soul Society with you?"

"...No. You have a life to live here, I'm not taking that away from you."

"Okay. Same here, then."

"But –"

"No. No more. I'm ignoring all of your opinions."

They laid there after that for a long while with nothing more to say as he brushed her hair with his fingers. Of course, when you had nothing to say, actions spoke louder than words. In no time, they were back in the swing of it, and didn't even notice when it got dark outside.

They only stopped again when Ichigo felt his hips start driving into hers and forced himself back to his senses. Damn! Why did he keep doing things like that? Did he have no control over himself whatsoever?

He told himself he didn't want to do that to her. With her. Not like this, not now. She was going to be gone by the next night anyway, and giving in would only make it worse for her when she got back to Soul Society, not to mention for himself. He thought for a second about what Byakuya had said back then, about Ichigo doing nothing to prove his love. Well, that would certainly be one way to do it, he guessed.

No, he was just grasping for an excuse. He had to get a hold of himself. He wasn't like this.

There were other ways...he'd been thinking about one now for a little while...but what if...?

He pushed those thoughts aside as he dove back in, taking extra care not to let himself lose control again. She accepted his return with vigour, but...but not as much as before. Was she mad about something? Had he done something wrong?

Of course he had. First her _shihakusho _the night before, now his hips. She probably thought he was some kind of single-minded pervert! He almost broke it off again, but that would only draw attention to it. All he could do was keep going, being sure to ease up and be gentle, so that maybe she would forget it ever happened, or at least notice his efforts in trying to make up for it.

_Make up for it...but what if...? _


	18. Chapter 18

As the light of their last day together woke her, Rukia rolled over, expecting her hand to find Ichigo's warmth, but it hit only cool blanket. She whined and opened her eyes to see that Ichigo was already up and dressed, pacing about the small room as if in worry.

"You're up early," she said as she rested her face in her hand, propped up by her elbow.

"I had to go get something," he said nervously. He'd stopped pacing as soon as he'd heard her speak, but he looked antsy, like the movement still needed to be released and stopping just made it build.

"At the drugstore?" she asked him as she raised an eyebrow. He sucked back in his answer before it left his mouth, seeming to reconsider it. Then her implication dawned on him and he turned pink.

"No!"

She chuckled. She liked teasing him so much more now that she could take a taste of his hot, red face whenever it pleased her. Which was a lot. It used to be all she thought about whenever they were apart, but now that space in her mind was filled with something else. Something Ichigo liked to avoid.

She sat up and stretched, lifting first one shoulder, then the other, so that both popped. "What, then?"

Ichigo suddenly looked bashful, and very interested in the floor. He pointed to the closet. Rukia wished he'd just tell her, but another part of her revelled in him giving her some kind of surprise, like boyfriends did for their girlfriends. She stood and walked over to the closet, sliding open the door.

She was met with her own peaceful, sleeping face.

Her _gigai_.

It was set with its back against the wall so that it looked like she'd fallen asleep sitting up, cocooned from the neck down in a white sheet for some reason.

What did it mean?

"I got it from Urahara-_san_'s place," came Ichigo's voice. "It was already like that. He said I couldn't take off the covering..." His voice oozed embarrassment.

But why wouldn't it be dressed in something, at least? Had Urahara just given Ichigo a naked _gigai_ of Rukia's to make him sweat all the way back to the university? That seemed like something he would do, and she couldn't help but smirk at the thought. Though the smirk quickly vanished when she realized her likeness was being used as prank fodder.

Rukia pulled apart the sheet and gasped. She spun around to face Ichigo, who had his hands over his eyes, which could see perfectly fine through the spaces of his fingers. She slid the closet door shut behind her before he saw.

"What? What's wrong with it?" Ichigo asked, sounding genuinely concerned. And nervous.

"It's...What did you say to Urahara to get this from him?" she asked, turning down her face to hide her own redness.

"Why? What did he do to it?" Now Ichigo sounded on the edge of anger. She could tell he was jumping to some conclusion that might earn Urahara a punch in the head.

"What did you say?" she repeated.

"Nothing..." Ichigo said, rubbing the back of his head and looking sheepish. "I just said I wanted to go somewhere with you today..."

Oh. So this was...

"A date?" Rukia asked. Ichigo turned right around so that she could only see his back.

"Yeah right," he scoffed. "I just wanted to show you the sights around here before you had to go, since we spent a lot of time inside," he said. It was a flimsy story.

And apparently Urahara hadn't believed they were just going sightseeing either. Not if _that_ was any indication. Well, she hadn't brought a change of clothes, and unless Ichigo wanted to look clinically insane as he carried on conversations with the invisible about town, she had no choice. She opened the closet door and backed in.

Ichigo's face when he heard her open the door again was like nothing she'd ever seen. It made her feel warm, which she guessed wasn't a good thing to do in the new outfit that had been bestowed upon her.

The skirt was black like the matching thigh-high socks, was altogether too short, and wasn't even pleated, which meant it tightly hugged her curves. She wasn't sure how the skirt had found them, but now that she wore it, she was intensely aware that they were there – and so was Ichigo. She told herself that his eyes were just being drawn to the movement of her hands as she tugged incessantly at the tiny garment, trying to maintain at least _some_ decency. Damn that Urahara.

The dark violet shirt was a little better. It was comparatively baggy, with loose sleeves that tightened as they ended at her elbows, but it also exposed her shoulders, clutching around her upper arms rather than extending over them. And the hem of it was too abrupt, going only as far as the call of duty to hide her midriff, without having the decency to become useful as a skirt-cover. She barely noticed the black choker which had been placed around her neck, which was more than she could say about the lacy undergarments everything just barely hid.

Had he really needed to go so far with it?

She knew that if she opened her mouth to complain about the outfit, Ichigo would take her side without hesitation. But it would only be out of politeness, because his face let her know that he and her were definitely of two minds about it.

She could tell that he didn't want to look like he was drinking her in, so he only let his eyes take little sips, the rest of the time sending them this way and that about the room, as if following a fly. He was trying so hard to look casually interested in his dorm room that she almost let herself giggle. But her shirt's grip on her arms seemed as tenuous as her skirt was brief, and working together, they outlawed any unnecessary movement on her part.

How was she going to walk down the street?

* * *

When had this turned into a date?

It had started as a way to apologize to her for his inappropriate actions the night before, when his hot blood had gotten the better of his hips. He wanted to do something nice for her that didn't carry the risk of ending in –

Not that that outfit of hers guaranteed that anyway. It worked tirelessly to ruin his plans to uphold his chivalry. Shameful as it was, it had even managed to make him switch sides with her as they walked, putting him on the outside of the sidewalk. Then, whenever they passed a store with something displayed in the window and she looked at it, he looked at her. It was only a brief moment each time, but it was better than nothing, and _certainly_ better than staring.

God, staring would be nice.

He shook out of his disturbing train of thought. He looked down and realized he'd completely neglected his ice cream, which now swam in the squat paper cup in his hand. As soon as they passed another trash bin, he disposed of it. Rukia had done the same with her own cup quite a few trash bins ago, though hers had been empty. She'd gobbled the stuff up as if she was afraid to be seen with it and have it stolen. He'd never known she liked ice cream so much. He made a mental note of it. Did they not have ice cream in Soul Society?

It took him a few steps to realize he was walking alone. He backtracked to a small store which had a silver charm necklace in the window. Hanging from it was a small silver something...

A rabbit. Of course.

It was leaping. Ichigo didn't really see the magnificence of it, but as he watched Rukia take it in, he thought he was probably missing something. Her eyes were huge, her palms were flat on the glass, and her breath fogged it up a little as she stared. Ichigo caught himself staring too, but not at the necklace.

Then she stopped suddenly, straightened herself up, turned, and continued walking as if nothing had happened. Ichigo had had to pull his gaze up so fast that he felt light-headed afterwards.

"Saw something?" he asked, trying for casual.

She shrugged. "Nothing special," she lied, however well.

But it was a lie. It wasn't _nothing special_, it was _something perfect_...

He still thought it was a stupid idea, but...

It had to be done. There was no way around it. He'd argued with himself for long enough to realize that. But he dreaded actually having to go through with it all the same.

They did other things after that: they sat and talked about nothing, they ate lunch at an outdoor café, they went to a temple and got fortunes – which she wouldn't reveal to him! But his mind raced back to the charm necklace during all of those things, and when he'd finally convinced her to meet him at the university because he had to talk to his dad about something important, he raced back there himself.

* * *

Ichigo barely noticed Rukia as he walked in the door of his room with his fist closed tight. He'd completely forgotten that it might be gone by then.

He marched straight into the washroom, opened the cupboard doors under the sink, snaked his arm all the way into the back, and pulled out the small, folded handkerchief he'd placed there that morning. He carefully unfolded it, telling himself not to get his hopes up –

But then he saw it. It was there; it was still there! His _bankai_ wasn't even active and it had stuck around. Perfect.

Rukia seemed utterly confused when he exited again. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

Ichigo's throat tried to close on him. He cleared it. "Yeah...it's just..." Well, it seemed as though he'd accidentally cleared his mind along with it.

"Did your father say something to you?" she asked, sounding concerned. He wondered for a second what she was talking about before he remembered his own excuse.

"Nah, he's fine," he lied. "I wanna show you something, so turn around for a sec," he blurted. It wasn't smooth at all, but at least it did the trick. She obliged after only a slight hop of the eyebrow at him.

There would be no easier way, so he just went ahead and lowered it onto her neck from behind. He was incredibly thankful for her newly-shortened hair as she hooked the ends together without trouble. He was surprised at how his shaky fingers had pulled through in the end.

Rukia gasped. Then she touched her neck before spinning around to look him in the eyes. Hers were all watery as she pointed at the small, pure white ring that hadn't been in the window display, which hung behind the rabbit so that it seemed to be jumping through it.

"What's this?" she said, her voice quiet. He hoped it was good quiet.

"It came off my _bankai_. It had two rings on it, so you can have that one. I'll keep the black one." He rubbed the back of his head. Had he tried to hard? Had he ruined the necklace she'd fallen in love with in the window?

Her lips told him _No_ as they forcefully pressed into his. Her arms hooked around his neck as she broke it off to sob into his chest. He gently placed a hand on the back of her head.

"I love it...I love you," she cried. Cried and smiled.

She was so happy. Why did he have to ruin it?

"I love you too," was all he said.

He still didn't have the courage to tell her that it was a farewell present.


	19. Chapter 19

What Byakuya had said was right: things couldn't continue as they were between them.

They had been doing...whatever it was that they were doing – dating, maybe? – for two years and he'd only seen her once in the last year, for two days. That wasn't enough, for him or for her. They still talked on the Soul Pagers, but it just made him miss her more. As much as it terrified him to have to do it, their relationship as they knew it had to end. Soon.

Many nights he'd stayed up swapping arguments back and forth within his own mind, giving him a twisted nostalgia of his time with his Inner Hollow. _Maybe it's okay the way it is_, he'd suggest, only to have the thought quickly crushed under the weight of the ever-growing evidence to the contrary. Evidence like the messages she sent him sometimes: heartfelt, and heart-wrenching, ones about wishing he was with her and longing to be together again. But it never had happened again, not since her last leave.

Still, it scared him to think about ending what they had. She was more than his maybe-girlfriend, she was his _best friend_. She believed in him like nobody else did, and he thought very sadly that she probably believed in their relationship too. Because he was on the other end of it, and if there was one thing she believed, it was him. Always.

That didn't necessarily mean she'd believe in what he was going to do, however. It could destroy everything they had if he wasn't careful, including their friendship. At times he thought about continuing to go through the motions just to keep that intact, but it was too much. He needed to do something, even if it scared him more than anything. More than his Inner Hollow. More than Aizen.

But he'd still miss her when it was done, it's not like it was going to just stop. He'd probably miss her even more after he finally did it. But at least their futures would be clear, and they might be able to live out their lives with at least the comfort of being able to look forward to something better.

Well, _he_ would, anyway. He was only human.

* * *

It was the third day straight without so much as a word from Ichigo on her Soul Pager, and Rukia had started to fret in the first hour. As she often did now when she was nervous – not to mention excited, wistful or sad – she absently played with the small ring that hung from her neck, which was always warm to the touch and smelled like Ichigo. Sometimes she'd catch herself with it in her mouth as she worked on papers and force herself to drop it. It didn't taste like metal, though it felt like it. It tasted like...she wasn't sure, but she liked it.

She continued to fiddle with it as she browsed the history of the Pager with the opposite hand.

_Talk to you tomorrow_

She'd read and reread that last message a hundred times, because _tomorrow_ hadn't come, and she didn't know why.

She had her suspicions, though. It couldn't be that Ichigo was seeing another girl behind her back, she trusted him too much for that to be more than a tick in the _Not_ category. And he hadn't done anything to be ashamed about. On the contrary, when they'd last seen each other too, too long ago, he'd made her the happiest she'd ever been in her life. That left only one conclusion: she was the problem.

She knew it was probably because she hardly ever went to see him, and the worst part was she couldn't blame him, not for being lonely. She was lonely too, but she had time, whereas he was a ticking clock. His entire lifetime could pass and she would age very little if at all, retaining all the vigours of youth and of young love, and meanwhile he would have wasted his life away _waiting_ for her. And if they finally met again when he made his way to Soul Society as a resident, she'd be surprised if he didn't resent her. For her, it was just some time apart, but for him it was her stealing his youth.

She spat out the ring. She knew she was overthinking it, but she couldn't help that, it was what she did. The Ichigo she knew was so noble that he'd probably lose the race against time with a smile, so long as he thought she was happy. That was what made it so much worse.

Dammit, why didn't he say anything?! She'd thought about messaging him first, but if her suspicions were true, that would only irritate him. It could be that he was simply busy with school, but he was a very good student and fast learner; he'd always found a way before to spend much of his class time exchanging words with her, only to let her know some time later that he'd passed an exam in the high percentile. He was a genius in more than just combat. As proud as it made her to be the...girlfriend? of a genius, it saddened her to know that it ruled out school as a factor in his silence.

And how long had this been going on? Had it started before three days ago, maybe during her last visit? Had she completely misread his refusal to take her and make her his as prudishness, when it was really a decrease in – or lack of – attraction? She hated to think that.

She hated to think _any of it_.

So she put the phone down, for the first time in...too long. She left it on her desk and walked out of the barracks to take in the courtyard and fresh air. Worrying would do her and her Captain no good anyway.

It shocked her that she'd stepped out into an orange-lit afternoon. Had it not been morning just minutes ago? She guessed time flew when you were worrying more quickly than when you had fun.

Rangiku-_san_ was another surprise. She was in the courtyard, near the coi pond, looking as if she were having a drink with the fish by the way she gazed at them and chuckled. Rukia hoped that she hadn't actually spiked the waters.

"Rangiku-_san_," Rukia greeted her as she walked over to the pond. Thankfully, her friend wasn't drunk yet, so she probably still had the clarity of mind not to try to inebriate the local aquatic life.

Rangiku-_san_'s face lit up. "Rukia-_chan_! I was wondering when you were going to come take a break with me!"

Rukia thought about asking how long of a break Rangiku-_san_ had taken waiting for her to do the same, but instead just sat down beside her.

"I was...quite distracted today," she admitted.

"About what?" Rangiku-_san_ said in a child's tone.

"Ichigo, of course," she said into the pond. She'd learned as she'd spent more and more time with Rangiku-_san_ that beating around the bush usually meant a beating about the head sooner or later. All she could do was be vague and hope she didn't pry.

"Why? What's he done now?"

It had been a slim hope anyway.

"Nothing at all," she said sadly, hugging her legs to her chest. She really didn't want to cry in front of her friend, or before the workday was out.

She was yanked out of her head by the burning scent of alcohol under her nose. Rangiku-_san_ had shoved a _sake_ bottle under there.

"Drink up," she commanded. Rukia thought about arguing, but she was already drinking it.

Oh god, why was she drinking it?! She never drank it! Even worse, she knew that drinking it might cause her to confess something she wanted to keep to herself, if Rangiku-_san_ was any indication. She'd more than once let something slip in her drunken ramblings-on that Rukia was sure she wasn't supposed to know. Not that Rangiku-_san_ ever seemed embarrassed or asked for her silence later, but when she'd told Rukia, finally, who the _fresh meat_ was...

Well, that wasn't something you just told everyone.

Rukia pulled the bottle away from her lips, and hoped it had been nearly as light in her hand before she'd drunk her fill as after, though she couldn't be sure. She told herself that Rangiku had probably polished most of it off before she'd gotten there, but...

But she felt warm, very warm, and not because of the low-hanging sun. It was coming from the inside, in the pit of her stomach. It was a good warmth, second only to Ichigo-warmth. She let herself bask in it, feeling her muscles relax for what seemed like the first time in three days. She felt a smile splay across her face that she did nothing to stop, because after three days, she needed a smile.

"_Okay_, now we're ready to talk, right?" she heard Rangiku-_san_ asked rather excitedly.

"Nothing to talk about," Ruka replied. "Ichigo might not love me anymore." For some reason, that didn't hit her so hard anymore. It was like she'd been numbed. She felt more like it was a damn shame than the end of the world. She was starting to like what the warmth had to offer.

She heard Rangiku-_san_ sigh. "If I'd have known _sake_ makes you feel even _more_ sorry for yourself, I'd have finished it myself," she griped.

Rukia weakly scowled. "I think I'm a bad girlfriend, Rangiku-_san_."

"Maybe he's just a bad boyfriend," her friend replied simply. She had this amazing ability to penetrate whatever Rukia said with some obvious-sounding observation.

But Rukia shook her head. "Ichigo's wonderful...I really love him..."

"And what's to say he doesn't still feel the same way?"

"He hasn't said anything to me in three days," she said, feeling ashamed at what she knew would likely be called _bullshit_ or the like.

"Hey, my guy's not chatty either, but he also has a lot on his mind, what with his job. Maybe Ichigo got himself a job too. Ever think of that?"

No, she hadn't. Of course, there was a reason she hadn't: he didn't need one. His schooling was paid for, and he still had money saved up from the job he'd had over the summer before university...the same money he'd used to buy her the chain.

She let the ring slip from her lips. Jeez, when was she going to knock that off?

"No...I don't know..."

"Well then ask him." There it was again. The piercing simplicity. Rukia had somehow convinced herself that breaking the silence first would worsen things, where Rangiku-_san_ saw only a solution. She was glad to have a friend like her.

And maybe it was the _sake_, but arguing seemed less and less appealing now. "Okay," she heard herself say.

They'd stayed like that for a while until the workday ended around them, though only five minutes later. They talked and talked, and when the warmth had faded enough for Rukia to feel the chill in the dusky air, she'd said her goodbye and returned to the barracks. She shuffled back into her office to arrange the paperwork she'd need to get to first-thing the following morning, when she spied the lit-up Soul Pager.

There were two unread messages, from Ichigo and Urahara. Urahara's could wait.

_I need to talk to you. Please come over tonight. Urgent. _

_I love you._

* * *

Ichigo could only hope that Urahara had prepared everything for Rukia like he'd asked as he sat in front of his table, legs tucked under him, rocking back and forth at the waist. _Butterflies_ was not the word for what was going on in his stomach. Maybe _pigeons_ or _crows_, or both, having a fight in his gut. Yeah, that would do.

Just as he decided which flying beasts were mincing his insides with worry, he heard a light rapping on his door.

"Yeah?" he called.

"Ichigo."

Oh god, it was her. This was it. He wasn't ready.

"Come in," he said against his better judgement. She obliged. She was in her _shihakusho_. For some reason, the fact that she was just herself made Ichigo feel better, like it would be easier.

She sat down across the table from him. She looked so forlorn that all he wanted to do was vault over the table and hold her. But if he did that, would he ever work the nerve up?

"Sorry I didn't write lately..." he said.

Rukia seemed to nod automatically, without really paying attention. She was gazing into the table, not his eyes.

He was about to go on when she told the table "I understand, I know you're busy with school."

"Rukia." He said her name in the same forceful way Zangetsu knew to say his when he was being mopey. It worked, and their eyes connected. "It wasn't school. I got a job."

Rukia's empty eyes seemed to take light at that, but she didn't smile. "Oh...I see..."

"Yeah, this Unagiya lady. Basically the job is to do anything anyone wants done," he complained as casually as he was able, hoping it would lighten her mood. "It's a real pain, but she's alright, and I needed the money."

"Good. That's good. I'm glad," Rukia said. Her face betrayed her words, so Ichigo called her name like Zangetsu again.

Now, before she broke her gaze. He had to do it now, or else...

So here it was, the end. Goodbye to everything they now had. Goodbye to _normal_.

Rukia didn't seem to notice the small, flat, plain white box Ichigo had slid her way. But shaking it or something would have been weird, so he just waited achingly until she looked down. At last, she did.

He took his hand away to let her do with the box as she liked. For a long while, she didn't seem to know what that was, but finally she touched it, many times quickly at first, as if it were scalding hot. Then she lifted the lid, and her hand went to her mouth.

Was the diamond too small?

She lifted the ring as if it were the most fragile thing in the world, and seemed to lose herself in it. Tears streamed down her face that she seemed not to notice as she turned the ring over and over in her fingers. Then, at long last, she smiled, but the breath that came out with it was shaky.

"I take it this means...I'm still your girlfriend?" she asked through her smile.

"Don't be stupid," Ichigo barked, but she didn't even flinch, just looked up at him. Worry didn't have time to cross her face, though. "What kind of chump gets a thing like that for just his girlfriend?"

* * *

Rukia had heard Ichigo's words, but they couldn't mean what her mind had told her they did. She was delirious. Delirious with glee over not being dumped, over being good enough, over having a symbol that told her all that and more, in her fingers. The most beautiful thing she'd ever seen...

When it was clear Ichigo had thought he'd explained himself perfectly, Rukia forced out an "Oh..." to coax more out of him.

It worked. "I know we can't see each other all the time, but I can make a promise that...we'll be...um..." Ichigo squirmed.

The truth hit Rukia like a wall. He _had_ meant what she'd thought. He'd meant the impossible. The cool trails left behind by her tears were warmed anew as more began to fall.

Ichigo looked at her again, his face very red. "...Okay?"

_Yes!_ Her brain screamed. _Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!_

But he'd still made her worry far too much to let him off that easily. It was his turn to worry, if only a bit.

She forced herself to place the ring back in the box and slide it over to him. The look on his face pained her, but what she'd get from him in return was going to be worth it.

"No," she said. "It's not okay. You have to do it right," she told him.

Ichigo seemed hopelessly confused at the fact that his nervous blabbering hadn't done it for her. Then he looked just annoyed, and Rukia had to bite back her grin before it ruined everything. He plucked the ring out of the box with two fingers and straightened his arm to shove it in her face, with it nearly touching her nose.

"Marry me, dammit."

Good enough. More than enough.

"Okay," she gave him, and took the ring to slip on her left hand. It fit so perfectly that it almost scared her.

The next thing she knew, she'd pushed the table aside so that nothing stood between them, and crawled on top of him. She even skipped giving him his much-deserved kiss, instead going straight for his belt. He sort of squeaked when she tucked her thumbs into the sides of his pants and yanked on them, revealing the top of his boxers.

"Rukia, hold o –"

She guessed he could have his kiss now. At first he felt like he was going to pull away, but then she felt his hand on the back of her neck as he pushed into it with all he had. He waited for them to break for air before talking.

"Rukia – In the washroom – under the sink – I've got some –"

"Shut up."


	20. Chapter 20

Rukia's eyes fluttered, and she was awake again. For a split second she was lost in the unfamiliar dark, with very cold shoulders and very warm thighs, and someone's hand on her back to let her know she wasn't alone.

Then it all came rushing back.

Ichigo had been as fast a learner as ever, and as it turned out, the straight line that was his learning curve applied to more than just combat.

She remembered the first time, which was mostly spent telling him where to do what, and when. It wasn't instant, it took time and effort to get into each other's rhythm. But in the end, the effort felt like nothing in the wake of her first..._reward_, which Ichigo made sure was greatly overpaid, with white-hot, searing intensity. She was shocked, and slightly ashamed, that he had not only brought her to the edge, as she'd expected, but sent her over it, like a rushing waterfall. And it was altogether different from those lonely nights at the estate, which felt like a trickling stream in comparison. No, less; a slow drip. Whatever it had been, it had never made her worry about waking anyone else in the building before.

The time spent in-between each entanglement was less clear in her mind. Maybe there had been some talking, or just more kissing, she really couldn't say. Now, as she laid there, staring into the dark, it all seemed to blur together.

The second time was different, but only in that neither of them said very much. Already the necessity of that had gone, as Ichigo proved, without reminder or instruction, that he was a _very _good listener. And when again she was forced to curl her toes and plunge her fingernails into poor Ichigo's back, the previous time became like a preview, to what was then the main attraction. By then, she had begun to wonder how it had ever taken so long, when Ichigo made such short work of it.

Then again, he did that with everything.

The final time had been completely different. Not a single remnant of her teachings seemed to remain, and Ichigo struck out on his own – on instinct. And damn if his instincts weren't as good or better than his listening skills. The path he took cut between gentle and rough, making detours into one or the other at just the right times without fail. Already he knew her better than she knew herself, and when it all reached its peak for the last time that night, it was so powerfully intense that she actually felt tears bead up in the corners of her eyes as it washed over her.

Rukia slid the back of the hand that wasn't under Ichigo across her forehead to clear the sweat that her memories had brought there, and felt something catch. She lifted the hand to her eyes, but saw nothing. There was no moon out tonight to filter through the window. So instead she pressed it gently to her lips.

Of course. The diamond.

She was laying next to the man she was going to marry, and something about that made her toes curl and her middle twist about in excitement. She barely contained the squeal in her throat. She didn't want to wake Ichigo just yet. He'd worked hard that night, he deserved his rest.

_For now_.

* * *

Karin could only watch as the oppressive dark outside her window stared back at her while she waited for the cold grip on her stomach to release. She sat at the edge of her bed, feeling around with her mind or whatever she felt spirits with, for the malevolent presence to fade away like it always did. It always did, she knew, because her brother was there.

Except he wasn't tonight. The feeling wouldn't go away, at least not as quickly as it had all those other times. It had shocked her bolt upright from a dead sleep, and until it was gone, there was no chance of reclaiming her rest.

So _where_ was her brother?

"Jeez, what's Ichi-_nii_ doing?"

She understood that his university was quite a distance away, so maybe he couldn't feel something so close to her. Scary close. She cast a sideways glance at her sleeping twin as a new storm of worries washed over her. The malevolence was getting closer, she knew, because that headache she got during close calls had kicked up between her eyes.

But simply rubbing the spot would do nothing to make the ache go away. So she stood up and walked out of her room instead. If Ichigo wasn't around to protect them, then she guessed it was up to her. She picked up her soccer ball on her way to the door, remembering the time she'd actually made one of those things disappear with a well-aimed kick. But as she rounded the corner toward the front door and her shoes, she noticed they sat beside only one other pair.

Her father's shoes were gone.

She stamped into her own as she swung the door wide and dashed out, only to nearly fall over when someone caught her arm.

"Where do you think you're going," came her father's voice, serious as she'd never heard it. She rounded, and the look on his face was so foreign that she barely recognized the big goofball.

"There's –"

"I know that. That's not what I asked you."

Her father's newfound seriousness might have been even more unsettling than the monster's presence.

"I have to do something. Ichi-_nii _would do something." She didn't know why she'd said it, as if to say _I should be allowed to do whatever my big brother can_, like some kid. But it didn't matter, she shook her arm free and started running.

Before hitting an invisible wall.

She stumbled back, clutching her throbbing nose, which thankfully wasn't bleeding.

"What the _hell_ is that?" she shouted, caring neither that she'd cursed at her father or that she might wake her sister. What was he doing at a time like this?! Had he made it so she couldn't leave?

Her father sighed. "It's called _kido_, and it's going to keep you and your sister safe until Urahara gets here," he explained. He seemed to scan the street for something.

Right, Urahara-_san_ was one of them too, a _Shinigami_. Even more, he'd once been one of their highest-ranking officers, a Captain. He'd told her as much during his explanation of the _Gotei _13.

So her father was waiting for him to come kill the monster.

Then where on Earth _was_ he?!

"We can't just wait around, right?" she asked her father urgently. "He's not here yet! What if he doesn't come in time?"

The image of Yuzu being clutched by a monster, as Karin herself had once been, flashed before her. She still remembered the crushing feeling, the intense fear, the look of the world going dark around her...

She wouldn't let that happen to anyone else.

She shouldered the invisible wall with everything she had, until everything she had became a very sore shoulder and a very short temper.

"Knock it off, Karin," said her father, resting a hand on her alright shoulder. "I might not be at my best right now, but believe me, that wall's not going anywhere until –"

Her father didn't even have time to finish before the soccer ball slammed into the wall, where it spun for a moment as if caught by a net. Spreading out from it was a faint yellow glow, which flickered until the ball fell again. She didn't give it more than one bounce.

"Karin –"

_THWACK_. The ball hit the wall again, and again it shimmered in and out of view. Now, while she could see it –

A bolt of pain shot up her leg as her foot rammed into the wall, but she ignored it, she pushed past it. She heard herself yelling as she pressed all her weight onto her foot. She felt her father's grip tighten on her shoulder, but it only made her push harder. Her leg felt like it was going to break!

But the wall did first. And Karin slipped out of her father's grasp before the shock could subside, bolting down the street to where the coldness in her stomach came from.

* * *

As she laid there limp in the street, Karin chided herself for forgetting her soccer ball, but then realized that it probably wouldn't have helped. Besides, she had more important things to think about, like how long she'd been laying there, or exactly when her father had put her head in his lap, or how Urahara-_san_ had taken care of whatever it was that had hit her.

And now he was in her face, smiling like an idiot as her father yelled something. The ringing in her ears drowned out whatever it was. Then Urahara-_san_ put his finger to her forehead and the ringing stopped.

"...you here sooner?!" her father's loud, agitated voice rushed in to fill the space in her ears where the tone had been. She winced and felt him twitch, then stroke her hair.

"Sorry, I had some things to prepare first. I had no idea Karin-_chan_ would try to fight it," he defended, making her feel very guilty.

"What _things_? That doesn't matter in a Hollow attack," her father scolded the man, his tone softer now, but smouldering.

"You and your son do keep a man busy, you know," he retorted without losing any of his good humour. Her father seemed to relax at that, or maybe deflate because he'd been beaten. But he didn't apologize.

"I'll get her to the clinic, then," he said determinately.

"That would be best," Urahara-_san_ agreed, then paused and seemed to pick his words like steps across a mine field. "But...moving her now...could be very painful...as she is..."

"Then put her to sleep," her father said quickly. She briefly wondered how Urahara-_san_ was supposed to do that. Did he have some kind of anaesthetic with him or something?

"That won't stop this from happening again."

"No, because _I _will. We _both_ will," her father commanded. Urahara-_san_'s shoulders sagged as he seemed to relent.

But Karin wouldn't do the same.

"Is...is he saying he can help me fight?" she asked weakly. Her throat felt so dry that her words seemed to crack the inside as they passed, and she winced.

"No," her father replied simply. "Quiet, Karin, don't try to talk."

"But I wanna do it," she wheezed. It made her throat itch and she had to cough, which didn't illustrate her strength very well.

"There's nothing Urahara can do for you," her father told her flatly.

Before she could argue some more, Urahara piped up, saying, "No, but there's something _she_ can do."

Karin heard her father scoff. "Yeah right. That's illegal."

"And here I am, already enjoying my exile," Urahara retorted brightly. Her father was silent for a moment, probably deep in thought.

"Then you could do it to me. I can –"

"I'd rather not. Your powers are already in the process of coming back. I don't want to risk finding out what would happen if I interfered with that now. Draining you was already risky business."

"And you're willing to risk my daughter?" her father said in that same burning quiet tone as before.

"Not anymore than she's risking herself," Urahara-_san_ came back seriously. "Do you really think you can stop her? Did you stop her tonight? Did you stop Ichigo back then?" Between each question he took a pause, but her father didn't fill it.

"...Damn," her father finally said, though she heard the smile the curse had come through. "Why did I have to have such hard-headed children?"

"Who's _she_?" Karin finally got in.

Urahara-_san _seemed to have forgotten that she, the subject of their debate, was even there. "What?" he asked.

"You said...there was something..._she_ could do," Karin pushed, scratching her throat up even more.

Urahara grinned. He took up the cane he always carried around in both hands, then pulled it apart. A straight blade appeared between the two halves of the cane as he separated them. There was a metallic ring.

"This is Benihime," he said. Was he talking about the blade? "And she's going to lend you a hand."


	21. Chapter 21

The sound of the running shower woke Ichigo, who, upon rolling over, remembered that he was naked. And that his back stung. He got up in spite of himself and put on some fresh boxers. The ones he'd worn the night before had been flung somewhere he couldn't plainly see with a cursory scan of the room, but he bet they'd turn up later on in the week.

He was about to feel annoyed about that, but upon remembering Rukia's less fortunate state of undergarment affairs, he figured he deserved at least a lost pair of boxers. Apparently, being as conservative as he had around her for so long had been more frustrating that he'd thought. Though in his defence, the thin string waistband of the tanga she wore so easily snapped in his fingers that he couldn't really be blamed.

Quite literally ripping her out of the _sarashi_ was a different story, though – he felt bad about that one. But it was too much damn trouble to unwrap!

He gathered up the bandages, all frayed at the ends from furious tearing, and tossed them in the waste bin. He needed to keep himself busy so he wouldn't be forced to reflect on the escapades of _nighttime-Ichigo_, who already seemed like an entirely different person. Ichigo briefly missed having his Inner Hollow around to blame for any out-of-character acts on his part.

Next, he removed his bedding, rolled it in his arms, and tossed it all in the hamper, fetching fresh sheets and a new blanket from the small closet and laying them out. He made note that he'd have to be discreet in bringing the used bedding to the communal laundry area.

But when the rush of the shower suddenly stopped, the previous night came stampeding back with vivid clarity. Mostly because he was now in a rush to figure out what to say about each of his actions. Did he address each casually and explain himself? Did he apologize? Did he thank her? Did they exchange notes or something, or did you just not talk about it until next time?

_Next time, huh? You pervert_.

Rukia stepped out of the washroom followed by an entourage of steam, wrapped in only a towel. Around her neck was the chain with the ring-jumping rabbit, now joined by her engagement ring, strung along ahead of it. Her hair was a really sexy sort of damp. He wanted to touch it a lot, and if she decided she wanted to dry it off on the front of his shirt while he was still wearing it, he wouldn't complain. Not that he'd even be around to at that point, because it would surely see the return of _nighttime-Ichigo_.

Only when Rukia flicked him hard between the eyes did he break the stare he hadn't even noticed falling into. She looked...displeased.

"You have to go to Urahara's and fetch my _gigai_ from before," she ordered.

"Did you need to go somewhere?" Ichigo asked, earning him another flick.

"Yes, you fool, home. But I can't be expected to do that in just my _shihakusho_, can I?" she asked peevishly.

Ichigo was confused. "Why not? It's what you came in, isn't it? Wouldn't it look weird if you got back wearing different clothes?" Did she want to make some sort of statement or something, like those couples who wore matching shirts after visiting a love hotel?

This time she didn't flick him, but stamped her foot, keeping a tight grip on the top of her towel. "In case you forgot, you _shredded_ my underclothes last night! I can't go back to Soul Society with nothing underneath!"

Oh.

But, _shredded_? He'd just picked them all up, they didn't look _shredded_. He wasn't some sort of animal...

Right?

"Okay, fine," Ichigo said, letting feigned annoyance cloak embarrassment. "But you don't wanna catch a cold while I'm gone. You can find something here to put on until I get back," he told her. She tutted.

"Just hurry back and we won't need to worry about that," she said, seeming to have cooled down some. "And there's no need to let Urahara know your reasons for needing it..." She wouldn't meet his eyes as she said that. "Just...make sure there's still clothes on it," she said while reddening.

Ichigo remembered those clothes well – the ones from their...date. He liked those clothes a lot, even if they hadn't let him sleep well a few nights afterward.

"Okay, I'll be back soon."

* * *

It felt good to be able to put weight on her leg again without the shooting pain. Not that she felt very weighted at all. The first thing Karin had noticed upon becoming a _Shinigami_ – or something like one – was that you felt very light on your feet. Not less heavy, but more like gravity had relaxed its grip on you a bit. Or maybe the whole world took its hand off you, because you definitely felt less...constricted. You could breathe deeper and see clearer – not further, just more vividly. It was a very energizing feeling, like scoring the winning goal in a soccer game, where you felt like you could do anything.

The previous night, she'd just walked with Urahara to his shop and back to, as he said, "get her bearings", talking about how it felt and what she was to do from then on. Meanwhile, her father had taken her empty body back to the clinic and fixed it up, but not so much that she didn't limp. He assured her that it wouldn't last long, but she actually kind of welcomed it. The limp, and the fabricated fall that caused it, had been the perfect excuse for missing soccer practice in favour of starting her _Shinigami_ training. Still, dealing with it all through class had been kind of a pain.

She looked at her body, which sat on the outcropping of the shop, leaned against its wall as if in rest, its bandaged right leg dangling off the edge. It was still a little creepy to be able to look at yourself like that.

A _bokken_ came flying at her that she just barely caught.

"For now, that's your _zanpakuto_," said Urahara-_san_ with his trademark smirk. She understood what _zanpakuto_ were, and that the thing he'd stabbed her with was one. Apparently, all _Shinigami_ had one...but she didn't, yet.

The wooden sword felt awkward in her hands. She had never been a _handy_ type of person like her sister. She worked better with her legs and feet. She guessed she could just give up and kick him if it became too much. But she still took up the sword in her hands.

"Okay," she said with all the determination she could muster.

Urahara tutted as he walked over to her. Before she could ask what was wrong, he sent the sword wheeling out of her hands with one quick, simple upward flick of his cane. "You're not gonna last long like that," he told her, but with an understanding smile.

Karin let herself bounce over to where the sword had landed as if she was on the moon. She picked it up and returned to Urahara, once again readying the sword. He puppeted her arms and hands until they felt more solid around it. He widened her stance by tapping the inside of each leg once with his cane until she felt nicely balanced. Then, unexpectedly, he touched the tip of his cane to the back of her neck. She arched her back and just barely stifled a squeal.

"Well, it's better than slouching, at least," Urahara-_san _chuckled as he came around to face her. "Now Benihime and I are going to come at you, so be ready," he said, reclaiming some seriousness.

"Right."

* * *

Despite being the same age her brother had been when he'd started his life as a _Shinigami_, Karin knew that she paled in comparison. She'd heard from Urahara how quickly Ichigo picked up on everything, and wondered how much further along he'd be by now if it were him in her place.

Urahara came at her hard and fast, holding back surprisingly little, or so it seemed. To her credit, she'd at least gotten to the point where the _bokken_ didn't get knocked out of her hands every time, and she could actually hold on to it long enough for a lengthy cane barrage to show her how hopeless she was at parrying. The pain was distracting, and she supposed that was part of it. She hadn't realized how much it rattled in your hands when the sword you held got struck so hard.

Urahara-_san_ didn't seem as disappointed with her as she was with herself. He only really pointed out tips on how to improve, without ever reprimanding her. Of course, compliments were also sparse, but that didn't bother her. She had never responded to positive reinforcement like Yuzu. It always felt like she was being babied. Urahara-_san_ certainly didn't baby her.

"Thanks," she said as Urahara-_san_ set a cup of chilled tea beside her on the outcropping. She pumped her hurt leg a few times to force herself to get used to it again, to equate herself with the pain so it wouldn't be so jarring when she finally got up.

He sat down beside her with his own cup in-hand, staring out into the street as he spoke. "Don't be so worried. I told you already that being a _Shinigami_ was something completely different."

Karin only nodded as she sipped the cooling drink.

"In Soul Society, you can live a very long time. _Shinigami_ training at the Academy can take decades if you need it to. This was just the first day, so try to relax," he continued.

"But...my brother..."

As if on cue, Ichigo's voice rang out.

"Hey! Urahara-_san_!"

Karin turned to see Ichigo jogging up to the shop, but when he noticed her, he stopped dead. At first she thought he was surprised to see her there, or worried when he saw her leg, but he looked...guilty instead.

"Yo, Ichigo!" Urahara-_san_ called to him, breaking the tension. "I was just having tea with Karin-_chan_, do you want to join us?" he invited casually.

"You were having tea?" her brother repeated, his bewilderment quickly quashing his guilt.

"Yes, but that's really something you should talk to your father about. So, what brings you all the way here?" Urahara-san asked, getting up to meet Ichigo, who remained hopelessly lost-looking.

Then he went bright pink.

"I...came to get Rukia's _gigai_," he said uneasily. Karin knew what _gigai_ were, but why did Rukia-_san _need one?

Urahara looked suddenly conspiratorial. "Ah, a satisfied customer," he said, deepening her brother's colour. Then he whispered something in Ichigo's ear that earned him a knock on the head.

"It's nothing like that! Just get it for me, okay?" Ichigo asked, sounding suddenly very urgent. Urahara relented with an "Okay, Okay" and made his way into the store. Once they were alone, Ichigo approached her. "...Hey," he said.

"Hi."

"What did you do to your leg?" he asked without looking at it.

"Nothing," she said, looking away, "I just fell."

"Stop lying," he told her, but without any real anger. "You don't think I can tell what's different about you?"

Karin's heart skipped a beat.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask you to stop," Ichigo told her in response to her unspoken fears. "That's none of my business," he continued as he walked up to her. He knelt down so that they were almost face-to-face, slid his arm around her back, and pulled her close.

Even if her hands hadn't been holding her tea, Karin wasn't sure she would have known what to do with them right then. Ichigo wasn't a hugger, so protocol didn't exist for it.

"Sorry I wasn't there," he whispered.

"I'm fine, Ichi-_nii_," was all she said in return.

Urahara-_san_ appeared, but not with a _gigai_, unless he'd made one you could fit inside a paper bag. As Ichigo raised to meet him, he was handed the bag. When he looked inside, it made him go even redder than before and clamp down tightly on the top.

"Wh-wh-wh—" he stammered, but Urahara-_san_ cut him off.

"Call it intuition," he said with a devious grin. "You wouldn't want to carry the whole thing back with you in your human body, right? This is easier."

"That's not the issue!" her brother bellowed. "Couldn't you pick something a little more _respectable_?"

"You don't think she'll like it?" Urahara-_san_ asked, sounding genuinely surprised at Ichigo's reaction.

"Are you kidding?! She's gonna break my nose if she thinks this was my fault!"

Urahara raised his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, Ichigo, but that's all I have in-stock. Then again, you could always try another store for that sort of thing..." he said whimsically.

The thought of whatever-it-was seemed to fluster Ichigo beyond belief.

"It's fine! Bye!" he said, spinning on his heel to leave. "And make sure Karin doesn't overdo it!" he called back as he ran.


	22. Chapter 22

The December chill seemed to bite at Ichigo's face specifically to reprimand him for sitting there. He should do something. The 24th was already only a week away. That was a day you spent together with your g—

_Your fiancé. Wow. _

But instead he continued to sit on the bench, staring without seeing. The entire month had passed so far without him seeing Rukia, and as he'd thought, it was ten – no – a hundred times harder than it had been before. He felt mildly ashamed by the fact that it might be because he had more to miss of her now...

_But she's my fiancé. _

A grin broke out across his face and stayed there, defiant to the cold wind that whipped at it. He knew he should really get up and finish his trip to Urahara _Shoten_, but all the touchy, clingy couples he'd already passed had done their damage to him. He'd had to take a breather just so he wouldn't scream at anybody, or even just at the sky. It wasn't anyone's fault...but his. He slapped his face. He really wasn't trying hard enough to see the woman whom he was now destined to marry someday.

_Oh yeah. Guess I gotta think of when..._

The _click_ of the closing Soul Pager jarred him back to reality, and he actually had to check the message he himself had just sent, having done it so absently. Unsurprisingly, it was just another _I love you_, already the second that day. He hoped she wasn't getting as annoyed with him as he was with himself.

He still didn't like what all this had done to him, though the rewards far outweighed the self-loathing of his newly...expressive attitude. Still, every time he sent something like that more than once in a day, or when the passing couples caused him to fantasize about holding her hand as they walked down the street, or when he replayed his proposal in his head, he felt...it was hard to say. Like a chump, maybe.

He slipped the phone back in his pocket and mustered what resolve the saccharine sweetness of other couples hadn't beaten out of him so he could stand up. No use feeling sorry for himself, anyway. That wouldn't make it so he could see her on time.

Ichigo got close enough just in time to see Urahara thwack his sister on the back with his stil- unopened cane, sending her face-first into the ground with a _thud_. He nearly chuckled, but the expression her face shot up with killed it in his throat. She was mad, really mad, but not at the man who'd just trounced her. At herself.

He knew she was taking what she saw as her lack of progress pretty hard, because she wanted to measure up to him. And that made him feel awful. From what Urahara-_san_ told him, she was doing fine, even well. But even so, the fact that they'd been at it a month and she still hadn't gotten the hang of swordplay, or that she hadn't yet manifested her own sword to use instead of a _bokken_, hit her hard.

As she stood and wheeled around, he briefly thought of putting and end to their training session by grabbing the wooden sword from her, but then thought that it would probably only make her feel more incompetent, so he let out a whistle instead.

Karin's shoulders jumped. "I'm not done yet, Ichi-_nii_," she said without turning to him, more pleadingly than defiant. If he didn't know the stone-cold Kurosaki resolve so well, he'd think she just really enjoyed being there. It sounded like she was asking him for five more minutes to play in the park. When she was younger, of course.

"Dad's kinda spazzing out that you've been here so long," Ichigo said, though his tone carried no consequence. Seeing his father work himself up was one of the forgotten pleasures he'd rediscovered upon returning home for the winter break. If it were up to him, Karin would stay here until she collapsed with a smile on her face and their dad wet his pants with worry.

"What do you mean?" she asked as Urahara-_san_ paused in his assault. It was a weird question.

"You've been here since nine A.M.," Ichigo pointed out.

"Yeah?" she replied, still missing his point. Did she think...?

"It's past three," he informed her, and _that_ made her turn around. Her expression this time was another that could choke off snickers, but in a different way.

"_What_?" she said in utter disbelief. Ichigo saw her left arm twitch and knew she'd gone to raise it reflexively to check the time, before realizing that her soul didn't wear a watch.

"I'm afraid he's right, Karin-_chan_," said Urahara-_san_ devilishly. "Looks like we got a little carried away today."

Ichigo saw Karin turn pink before she spun around to face Urahara-_san_ again. She bowed quite low, as if to her _sensei_. Ichigo remembered that the title sort of fit Urahara-_san_ now.

"Sorry!" she cried. Why was she being like that? It wasn't like her, it was more Yuzu.

He watched Urahara-_san_ saunter up to his bowed sister and gently tap the back of her head with Benihime's tip. He smiled at her, but it faltered when he saw her face. He crouched down to come face-to-face with her as if to hear something that her expression had told him she had to say. Then he peered over her shoulder at Ichigo, and with a gentle smile, shooed him away with his hand.

Ichigo took the hint. Something was obviously bothering Karin that Urahara-_san_ thought would embarrass her if Ichigo overheard. He obliged and looped around the shop, absently fiddling with the phone in his pocket.

Ichigo knew his sister well enough to know anyway what she was saying. _I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time_, _I'm sorry I'm not getting any stronger_...something like that. Probably both.

When he slowly came around the opposite side of the shop, their talk was over and Karin was back in her body, looking as tired as she was still...ashamed? Embarrassed? All he knew was that her blush hadn't subsided, though maybe she was flush from the workout. No, because her body hadn't been the thing that was working out.

Ichigo was yanked out of his train of thought when the Soul Pager vibrated against his palm, and he plucked it out of his pocket to flip open.

_Ukitake knows._

_WHAT?_

* * *

That _certainly _hadn't gone like Rukia had expected. To think she'd been working up the courage for a whole month for him to just...be Ukitake. She really loved him sometimes. If Ichigo hadn't come along...

"I deeply apologize, Captain!" she'd said into the floor, knelt in a deep bow that brought her forehead to the _tatami_ mats of his office, where she'd stormed in full of mustered courage, fear, and unsureness.

"Oh my. What about, Rukia-_san_?" her Captain had asked as if in surprise. She let all the courage she'd been hoarding all month long push the words out of her before she could think enough to choke.

"Last month, Sir, I grossly overstayed some time in the Living World and was late in reporting for duty!" the words came. They made her chest tighten as they rang in her ears. "It was shamefully irresponsible for a vice-Captain, and I meant to apologize to you sooner, but I—"

"Rukia-_san_..."

Rukia hadn't even heard him. She pressed herself up by her arms so quickly that the necklace which carried her rabbit charm, the ring from Ichigo's new _bankai_, and her hidden engagement ring nearly fell out of the front of her _shihakusho_. Thankfully, it didn't.

"Please, Sir, I wish to be demoted!"

There it was. She'd finally said it. She felt so bodily and emotionally exhausted afterward that she rocked on her wrists. She almost welcomed passing out, as it would at least take the shame away with her dignity.

But Captain Ukitake spoke before she could let go. "Stand up, please, Rukia-_san_." His tone was serious. Good. For all she knew, he'd been contemplating the same course of action, and this was his chance. She sprang up immediately and braced herself for the crushing blow.

But his gentle smile did more than she could have prepared for. Her knees buckled for an instant, but she stiffened them once more.

Why...?

"Is that all you came to tell me?" he asked, seeming actually _relieved. _

Rukia nodded, because her words had fled to wherever all that courage had.

"_Phew_. When you burst in, I thought for a second it was to unload more paperwork on me," he said through a relieved smile.

Rukia was totally lost. Yes, he had quite a lot of paperwork crowding his desk, but how was that important now?

"Um...excuse me, Sir," Rukia forced, hoping the rest of it wouldn't sound presumptuous, "did you not hear what I said?"

"Oh, yes," he said, planting a fist into the other hand's open palm, as if a piece of trivia had just come back to him. "As I understand it, you wish to resign as my vice-Captain."

"No!"

Rukia slapped her hands over her mouth as soon as she'd shouted the word, too loudly. She took a few breaths to compose herself, then spoke again.

"I apologize, Sir. I...I do not wish to resign..."

Captain Ukitake spoke before she could go on. "Well, seeing as you've done nothing worth being demoted over, I just assumed," he said with a shrug.

"But Sir, I—"

"Rukia-_san_, do you see this?" asked her Captain, placing a hand on a tall stack of papers directly in front of him. It was a single piece of an interlocking puzzle of inked white that hid nearly the entire surface of his desk beneath it. He had only a small nook of workable space, in which was clustered his container of fountain pens, which normally sat at the far corner.

"Yessir."

"This is all the necessary paperwork for this Divison for this entire month, which is only half-through," he explained. Rukia was glad to hear things were running so efficiently. It would make her transition out of command easier—

"All of it was done by you," Captain Ukitake finished suddenly.

"I'm sorry, Sir?" she asked, missing some point he was clearly trying to make.

"You can go ahead and search the whole lot, but I guarantee that the only signatures on here will be yours and my own," he said, flipping up the corners of a stack with his thumb and letting them fall back down atop one another as he reached the top. "Not Kiyone-_san_'s, not Sentaro-_san_'s, just yours and mine."

"Alright..." Rukia agreed, not knowing what else she could do.

"So, as you can see, your hard work has left me a very busy man," he said, but with a gentle smile. "So I'm afraid I have no time left to talk of demotions, you see."

Then it clicked. And Rukia didn't hold back the few tears of joy, unprofessional as they were.

"I understand, Sir. Thank you."

Captain Ukitake nodded cheerily. "Excellent. Now, is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

Rukia dabbed her cheeks with the silken slip over her right arm. "Actually, I...would still like to explain my tardiness...if you don't mind," she said meekly.

"If it would make you feel at ease, I'm all ears," he said, brimming with a kindness like no one else had.

Rukia forced her hand into the front of her _shihakusho_ and pulled out the necklace. She made sure each of the precious ornaments were flat in her palm, then held them up for her Captain to inspect. He did, raising an eyebrow inquisitively as his eyes past the first, grinning as they did the second. When they stopped on the third, she saw his eyebrows lift, and an entirely different smile claimed his face.

"Oh my. This is certainly..." he seemed to not be able to grasp the final word. Instead, he rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm very happy for you, Rukia-_san_."

"Th-thank you, Sir," she replied, feeling her face heat up as she did.

"But I believe that's something you wear on the hand, correct?" he asked. "It shouldn't be hidden like that."

"But—"

Captain Ukitake let out a put-on sigh. "I'm afraid I have to insist, Rukia-_san_, as your Captain." He couldn't contain his smile. Neither could she.

"So...it's an order, Sir?"

"Looks that way."

Rukia wasted no time obeying an order, as always. She carefully removed the diamond ring and slid it onto its rightful place on her left hand. The way it glittered nearly made her choke up, but then she remembered her brother.

"Now, if you'll be so kind, I'd like to speak with Captain Kuchiki," her Captain said.

Rukia instinctively clutched her left hand in her right, hiding the ring. "But he will see—"

"Captain Kuchiki is a very professional man. He will see my vice-Captain, and he will be told that I must see him immediately to discuss an urgent matter. I want no dilly-dallying on this. If he does anything but follow you to my office, you have my permission to start your journey back here immediately so that he will. And say nothing else to him on the way, I can't afford idle chatter right now." He explained it all very succinctly and business-like, but she knew it was to spare her trouble.

She let both hands drop to her sides as she bowed lightly. "As you wish, Captain."

And now, she was on her way. To see her brother. Wearing her engagement ring.

* * *

The week since Rukia's last, shocking message past quickly once the Kurosaki family got into the swing of things. Ichigo's dad was something of a fanatic about any excuse to celebrate, including Christmas. The bottom shelf of the fridge held no less than six Christmas cakes in boxes, and Ichigo wondered if the man planned to make them eat all six by themselves on the day. It seemed just crazy enough to be his plan. He spent most of his time excitedly running about in a Santa Claus hat and screaming different things, almost none of which Ichigo listened to. He was _sure_ other family's didn't make this big a fuss about Christmas. He acted like it was already New Year's.

It was, however, coming dangerously close. It was already the 24th. It was the day for couples to be together, and if he let it pass, he'd never forgive himself. Even Yuzu would get to see Jinta when their dad brought them all down to the _Shoten_ later, as planned. The fast friendship he and Urahara-_san_ – as well as the one Karin shared, by now – along with Yuzu's rather surprising relationship with Jinta, had made the decision to visit a pretty natural one.

But Ichigo was less than excited. Not like Yuzu. Well, he _assumed_ she was excited. He hadn't seen her since breakfast, after which she'd darted up to her room and was apparently trying on every piece of clothing she'd ever owned, or was putting on make-up?

He hoped she wasn't putting on make-up. Sure, she was fifteen now, but it still made him squirm to think about his baby sisters having relationships with boys. He hoped she wasn't moving too fast.

_Heh. Hypocrite._

He could tell Karin was excited too, though she made more effort to hide it than Yuzu or their father. He guessed she was looking forward to going to the _Shoten_ and seeing Urahara-_san_ outside of being a _Shinigami_-in-training. She hadn't gone back since last week when six hours had passed her by like nothing, and he knew she was happy to be going there without being a _bother_, as she thought.

But as the time to leave drew nearer, Ichigo found that he had to get out of the house. Not only was his father's overzealous attitude a little too much right then, but the sadness of the impending uneventful passing of the day was starting to creep up on him again. He'd thought many times about just using his personal portal to see her, but the first message he'd received following her last visit had explained that she needed to focus on work for a time. Apparently, being late once really hit her hard.

So like her.

But Ichigo understood her and respected her wishes, even as he also cursed them. And as she hadn't sent him anything thereafter retracting that statement, he thought it best not to show up unannounced. Even if his whole body ached to. His _whole_ body.

Ichigo's attention was grabbed by the fluttering-by of a pitch black butterfly. Then, a little ways ahead, a pair of sliding paper doors appeared in the middle of the street and parted, letting a white light spill out from between.

Oh, wow. It was her. She was coming to—

Byakuya Kuchiki exited the doors and they remained open behind him. They bathed him in a radiant light he'd probably think quite befitting of himself.

_Wrong Kuchiki_, Ichigo thought bitterly.

Ichigo's hand dove into the back pocket of his pants and found his Deputy Badge. He squeezed it and felt all the weight of flesh and of living fall away like so much heavy, rusted armour, freeing him to breathe deeper, run faster, jump higher...fight harder. He gripped the hilt of the giant sword at his back, but Byakuya raised a hand the way nobles did when something _displeased_ them.

"I have not come here to fight you, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said with pompous calmness.

"Oh yeah?" Ichigo threw back in disbelief. Byakuya wasn't one to use tricks to try and catch his opponent's off-guard, but there was a first time for everything.

"As you might notice if you took the time to look, I have not brought Senbonzakura," Byakuya stated condescendingly. Amazingly, though, he was telling the truth: his hip was unadorned. He was either _very_ confident, or actually wasn't there to fight.

_Well, both._

"I suggest taking care of your body and following me. I have something to show you," Byakuya went on. Ichigo could tell the man's patience was already gone.

Making sure not to hurry so as to spite the nobleman, Ichigo plucked the green Soul Candy which held Kon from deep in the right front pocket of his pants. He'd gotten into the habit of carrying it with him now, both in case the urge to see Rukia ever cropped up suddenly – which was often – and so he wouldn't have to put up with Kon's griping about their engagement. He dropped the candy into his body's open mouth, and a moment later it sprang to life.

"What do you want?" Kon asked irritably. Ichigo hated how the spirit made his voice all nasally.

"Do whatever you want for now. I have to go to Soul Society for a while," Ichigo quickly explained. He knew how to bait even the angry artificial soul into complying.

"...Whatever I want?" Kon asked, his eyes shining with delight. Scary delight.

"Yeah. My wallet's in my back pocket. I have some money in there, spend it on whatever, I don't care." Then, Ichigo yanked Kon by the shirt collar and brought them nose-to-nose. He fixed Kon with what he could tell by the soul's expression was a personal masterwork of scowls. "Just don't do anything inappropriate to any girls. Got it?" he growled. When Kon gulped and nodded, Ichigo released him and stood. "We're supposed to go to Urahara-_san_'s place later. Be sure to tag along."

"Aww, but—"

"I'm sure if you don't talk much, Yoruichi-_san_ will try to have some fun with you," Ichigo interrupted, blushing. He didn't like the thought, but he knew it would assure Kon's reliability.

"Gotcha!" the nasally voice said excitedly. "Guess I'll seeya later!"

Ichigo gave Kon one final nod, then followed Byakuya into the blinding light.

* * *

Ichigo didn't understand.

"What's that?" he asked Byakuya.

"Apparently, it's a gift," the man replied, sounding more than a little unhappy.

"Uh...thanks?" Why would he do this?

"Don't thank me," Byakuya came back quickly. "I merely secured it, but it was Captain Ukitake's suggestion."

Jeez, that man was just _fantastic_. "And you went along with it?" Ichigo asked, unable to shake being stunned. It was...Wow.

"Not at first, of course," Byakuya explained, seeming to take pleasure in letting Ichigo know that this was _not_ out of the goodness of his heart, and was done less than willingly. "But he assured me that it was the best thing for my sister. Apparently you've been quite a distraction of late. And we cannot have distracted vice-Captains endangering the safety of Soul Society," he said. It all sounded very rehearsed, as if it was something he'd chanted to himself a few times to make himself believe it. Ichigo barely believed it himself.

"Well, sorry I'm such a distraction," Ichigo spat sarcastically. Then he felt sort of bad, given the circumstances.

"Do not lie, Ichigo Kurosaki. I know everything."

Oh. Oh no.

"...So I guess...you're okay with that too?" Ichigo asked, knowing the answer.

"No. In fact, I'd just as soon kill you," said Byakuya firmly. "But my sister would not appreciate that, so I'll tolerate you for as long as you can make her happy," he explained. He was so callous it made Ichigo wonder how the man had ever fallen in love himself. "But when the day comes that you outlive your usefulness—"

"It won't."

"You cannot make her happy forever."

"I can try."

Byakuya went quiet for a long time. "In any case," he continued, not agreeing or disagreeing, "it is yours. Do with it as you must." The word _must_ was spat out like some bad tasting food.

"Okay..." Ichigo had been about to add _Thanks_, but he knew how that would go. What was more, Byakuya was already leaving, apparently having had all he could take of the whole ordeal.

_Thanks_.

* * *

_Hokutan,West Rukongai. Tonight._

The district where she'd trained with Kaien? Was Ichigo _really_ there?

Rukia didn't really give much thought to whether or not he was, just the chance of him being there was enough to make her day. Luckily, this time, he'd sent his message close enough to the end of day that it didn't feel like a thousand years, and as soon as she was dismissed, she unceremoniously ran from the barracks.

She probably ran because of the pounding excitement in her, but maybe she also just wanted to escape all the well-wishers that had come out of the woodwork as soon as her ring was visible. It was flattering, but it was almost like they didn't see their vice-Captain anymore, just a bride-to-be.

Still, it _was_ flattering.

She stopped when she saw him, standing at the boarder between the second and third districts. He was _really there_! She ran up to him and pounced with such force that they actually spun around together as she clung to him like her life depended on it. When her feet touched the ground again, he tipped her chin up with his finger and laid a gentle, telling kiss on her lips, letting it say _I missed you_. When it broke off, she buried her face in his chest again.

"Do you know what day it is?" he whispered. Her mind instantly began to race, rifling through all the important things she might have forgotten in her eagerness to get back to work. An anniversary of some kind? Or his birthday? No, that was in July. Then, what?

"I'm sorry...no."

"It's the day before Christmas, idiot," he said without meaning it, playfully knuckling the top of her head.

"Oh. Okay."

"Don't you know what Christmas Eve is?" he asked. She wanted to meet his eyes, but she couldn't pull her face from his chest. It was warm and smelled amazing. And she kept tightening he grip around him whenever his whispering made soft her joints.

"Of course I do," she said. "It's the day before Christmas, idiot."

He chuckled. "It's the day in the Living World that couples are supposed to spend together," he clarified.

Oh. So that was it.

Rukia's breath hitched as she drew it in, so that it shook. She squeezed him tighter. "You've never said we were a couple before, you know," she told him, straining to keep it together. It was amazing how, even though they were engaged, little things still meant the world to her.

"Don't say stupid things. We're obviously a couple," he said, and she could tell he was blushing. She made herself release one arm from the hug and reached back to pull on his left wrist. He let his hand into hers and she took to squeezing _it _instead.

"Then you should wear something too, so girls don't get the wrong idea," she said. It was weird; she'd never been jealous before.

"What, so people can know that I'm _yours_?" he asked as if annoyed. It had been sarcastic, but still she pressed even deeper into his chest and nodded vigorously. Her face felt warm. She couldn't look at him at all after that. "Don't worry," he said, "I'm too busy with school for girls to notice me."

It didn't work. She didn't stop worrying. He was so handsome, after all. But she ignored that for the moment. "Why here?" she asked. "Normally you're just outside of _Seireitei_."

"Actually, I was brought here too," he said. Before she could question him further, he led her down the road a ways. She nuzzled up to his side as they walked, and anyone they passed smiled at them. Whenever she looked up, she saw him blushing furiously. It was adorable.

Ichigo stopped in front of a modest wooden house with a tiled roof. It was big enough for maybe one communal living space, but no separate bedrooms. It was quaint and cute-looking, and homey in a way the Kuchiki estate wasn't. It reminded her more of her childhood in _Rukongai_, though modest as it was, it still outdid the hovels of her home district.

Then, unexpectedly, he led her inside.

It was just as nice and quaint inside as out, with a step-up into the quite spacious living area, which was entirely dark wood. It was surprisingly warm inside, and was sparsely furnished, with a simple, round wooden table with two matching chairs, and on the opposite side of the room, a bed in a nicely-carved wooden frame. There was a well in the exact middle – halfway between table and bed – encircled with inset stones, where a fire could be lit. Red sunset light filtered in to splash across the surface of the table from a single, paned window above it.

"What is—?"

"It's a place for us to meet," Ichigo said, sounding nearly as shocked as she became.

"What?—How?—Who—" she stammered.

"Ukitake."

And it all made sense. The conversation he'd had the previous week with her brother. For the whole week after, Byakuya had said very little to her at the estate and seemed very cold, but to turn around and find _this_...

Ichigo lifted her up and carried her over to the bed, gently sitting her atop the pleasantly soft mattress. They both began to disrobe. Once all of their garments were thrown into one big pile across the room, he crawled in beside her under the blankets and pulled her close.

"Merry Christmas, Rukia."


	23. Chapter 23

Getting up from that bed was one of the toughest things Ichigo ever had to do, because it was theirs. It wasn't his _futon_ that they were sharing, it wasn't her four-poster he was visiting, it was _theirs_, together; and if the night before hadn't marked it as such, he wasn't sure what would. It was the first of anything they could say belonged to both of them, as a couple. It was, really, the bed of a husband and his wife. And maybe he was overthinking it, but it felt like the best bed; the softest, warmest, and most comfortable he'd ever felt – and Byakuya would have to bring the house down around them before he would leave it.

But a surprise knock on the front door?

He felt Rukia stir in his arms, obviously just about as awake as he was, which was only half. But stirring led to getting up, to leaving, and consciousness hadn't even been with him long enough for him to enjoy her yet. So maybe, just this once, he'd be selfish.

"Mm-mm," he protested, tightening his hold around her middle and pulling so that her back was flush to his chest. He buried his face in her silken hair and tried to let the lavender send him off again, hoping his sleep would be contagious or something. Just for five minutes extra. Okay?

Nope. Whoever was on the other side of the door was persistent. _Too _persistent. Ichigo hoped, for their sake, that they were a woman. Anything else, no matter who, was getting a well-needed punch in the jaw when he finally got up. If it turned out to be Byakuya, all the better.

This wasn't his gift, it was Ukitake's, Ichigo remembered.

Okay, maybe Ukitake would get off without a punch. Probably.

Another knock made Rukia actually start to unstick herself from Ichigo, but he wouldn't have it. If begging wouldn't work, he'd try bribery: he pulled her back and angled his head so he could pepper her neck with kisses. It was a little awkward on his own neck, but worth it. Her skin was so soft and her taste so...addictive, that he soon managed to forget why he'd even started the ritual. The only thing he worried about was if he'd missed a spot.

But again he was reminded. _Knock, knock, knock_!

"If we don't answer, they'll give up," Ichigo whispered in Rukia's ear.

"Just a minute!" she called to the unknown visitor in too polite a manner.

"I hate you," Ichigo grumbled at her, though he kept right on kissing. She turned over suddenly in his arms, bringing them face-to-face.

"Is that so?" she teased, and she didn't even have to punctuate it, because her shining violet eyes were doing all the work to make him feel guilty and hot and—

And he was on top of her then. His lips went to work on a silent apology – well, silent if you didn't count the sucking sounds. They hurriedly moved south of her neck and took what they could before—

Right on cue. She smacked the back of his head, though not as hard as someone who _really_ wanted him to stop.

"Ah! Don't do that!" she hissed urgently. But if she really meant it, she could pull him off, he decided. A moan escaped her, and she had to carefully breathe the next few words so that they'd come out as words at all. "What...are you trying to...to draw milk? Jeez!" With that, she hit him again, a little harder, before she rolled over, popping the seal his lips had made.

No.

"I'm com—" was as far as Rukia got before she was yanked back down onto the bed by her waist. Ichigo quickly used his fingers to force hers to spread so he could grip her hands in his, pinning them to the sheets. Rukia squirmed halfheartedly as Ichigo brought their lips together over and over, letting a moan accompany each kiss from the back of his throat. He knew she liked it when he moaned like that.

He was right, because she stopped squirming and relaxed, and began kissing him back.

"If it's a bad time, I can come back!" came a cheery voice on the other side of the door. A woman's voice. Damn.

Rukia froze mid-kiss. "R-Rangiku-_san_! I'll be right there!"

And that was it, the fun was over. Paradise: lost.

Ichigo thought he'd never seen Rukia get dressed so quickly. He'd barely finished pulling on his _hakama _before she opened the door.

"Oh my!" Rangiku-_san_ exclaimed, "look at _you_!"

But she wasn't talking to Rukia. Her eyes were on Ichigo, whose _shihakusho_ was still open at the top, revealing his torso to her. He felt himself heat up as he quickly closed it, and she giggled.

"What do you want?" Ichigo asked irritably, finishing up.

"The Captain and I were just out for a stroll, and we thought we'd check on you," Rangiku-_san_ explained brightly.

"Captain? Toshiro's here?"

"That's _Captain _Hitsugaya to you," came a boy's voice in a man's tone. He appeared beside Rangiku-_san_, looking different than before, as opposed to his vice-Captain. His hair didn't spike up like it did before and fell over his face just a bit, and he'd added a green scarf. He seemed maybe a bit older, too, but not by much. But what _really_ got Ichigo were Toshiro's eyes.

He knew those eyes; they were _his_ eyes.

Toshiro huffed and looked off to the side, annoyed. "And we weren't _strolling_, it was a patrol," he corrected, arms crossed. "And you _said_ you were checking up on a sick friend," he griped. He seemed embarrassed to be there given the situation, which seemed clear to him. At least one of them had some modesty.

"That's right!" Rangiku-_san_ confirmed, splaying a hand out as if to present Rukia to the Captain. "Rukia-_san_ is lovesick, after all," she said with a nod. Ichigo couldn't see, but he was sure Rukia went red. God, he wanted to see. But all he got was Toshiro, looking a little pink himself.

Ichigo came up beside Rukia, but stopped himself short of putting a hand on her shoulder for fear she'd faint, red as she already was. Not that he'd had much of a chance before Rangiku-_san_ pulled Rukia away by the wrist. He had to stop himself again, this time from pulling her back. To force himself, he instead turned his attention to Toshiro, and those eyes they shared.

"What is it?" asked the young Captain after a moment.

An excuse for his likely odd look didn't come to Ichigo, so he took his best shot. "Could it be...that you and Momo-_san—_"

_Whoosh_.

And they were somewhere else. Still in the Third District, it looked like, but in a different part. The little guy's _shunpo_ was pretty good.

"Shut up! Don't say things so loudly!" Toshiro ordered, letting go of Ichigo's _shihakusho_.

"Oh. Sorry. I just—"

"How did you know?"

"...What?"

"That I was...How did you know?" Toshiro demanded, seeming frustrated more with himself than Ichigo.

"It was pretty obvious!" Ichigo exclaimed with confidence. Normally he didn't pick up on things so quickly, so he was going to revel in it. "You had that dumb look on your face the whole time."

"What look on my face?!" Toshiro came back angrily, getting right up in Ichigo's face.

"Are you kidding?!" Ichigo shouted back, not sure why they were shouting at all. But he wasn't about to lose a screaming match. "You look like a kid with a playground crush! Your puppy-love is so obvious even _Renji_ could figure it out!" he told him, complimenting himself for slipping in the Renji insult.

Toshiro seemed to bite back what he thought and backed down. "Shut up," he whined without meeting Ichigo's eyes. "I'm not some dumb kid, you know."

"Yeah right," Ichigo said as he knuckled Toshiro's head. "The thing about adults is, they don't try to act cool and grown-up all the time. That's what kids do," he teased. "You should see my dad," he added ashamedly.

But Toshiro didn't seem in a mood to be teased. He stared off somewhere ahead, at the ground, as he spoke.

"It's not—I'm...It's not like I'm some little kid, you know?" he said genuinely. "It's not like I reek of milk and don't know what's going on. I know that much. I just...don't..."

"Yeah...?"

Toshiro huffed. "I'm not that young, okay? I'm old enough to have a girlfriend if I want," he said defiantly, but too quiet for it to carry the weight he wanted. Ichigo had never seen him like this, or heard him say the word _girlfriend_. He'd honestly thought the kid was too young to think about those things. But he guessed he _did_ look a little older now.

Ichigo clapped Toshiro's shoulder. "Don't worry so much. I mean, it's not like there's no age difference between me and Rukia, right?" He hardly gave that much thought, but it was true.

"That's...that's why I've been wanting...to ask you for some advice..."

_Hold on._ "_Been_ wanting?" Ichigo clarified. Toshiro met his eyes too sheepishly. "For how long?"

"A few weeks, I'd say."

Ichigo palmed his forehead. "Jeez, does _everybody_ know about us?" he asked nobody in particular.

But Toshiro answered for them. "Just us three Captains and our vice-Captains, though I guess Kuchiki doesn't count..." he mused.

"I can't tell which Kuchiki you're referring to," Ichigo grumbled.

"There's six of us: Ukitake, Byakuya, and myself, as well as our vice-Captains," he asserted.

Well, at least it wasn't _everybody_.

"Jeez, looks like word's starting to get around, huh?" Ichigo asked fretfully.

"Relax," Toshiro assured him, "I only know because of Rangiku."

...Wait.

Toshiro winced. "I mean, Mastumoto," he corrected, but not fast enough.

Click.

Ichigo couldn't bring himself to words; he could only point at the boy and feel the stunned look that wouldn't leave his own face.

Toshiro slapped Ichigo's hand aside. "Shut up, I said!"

"Hey, don't say _shut_ _up_ before I even say anything!" Ichigo retorted. But the air between them cooled quicker than last time, and Ichigo wasn't sure, but...but it might have actually _been_ colder.

"So..." Ichigo chanced, "how long?"

After a long pause, Toshiro started to walk and Ichigo followed. Then, finally, he spoke. "It started about a year after the war.

"R—Matsumoto was pretty devastated about Captain Ichimaru's death. She didn't do much of anything for a long time – not that it was any different from before. But I took care of more and more of her work because I felt sorry for her, and she wouldn't say much of anything to anybody. Then, one night, I heard her crying in her quarters while I was up late finishing her paperwork. It was really distracting, so I went over there to tell her...something, I guess. I told her I was coming in and she didn't object, so I did...

"She was just lying on her _futon_ with her back to the door. There was a bottle of _sake_ right beside it, too. So I figured she'd probably been drinking and had drunk herself into a self-pitying stupor. I didn't know what to do in that situation, but before I could leave she called out to me...So I went over there and I think maybe I patted her on the shoulder or something – I don't know – but the next thing I knew, I was lying there beside her. Because she'd pulled me down, okay?! Anyway, she just lied there and clung to me for a long time and cried into my hair...it was really inconvenient.

"When she finally fell asleep, I managed to escape, and I was going to take the _sake_ bottle away so she wouldn't knock it over in the night...But it was heavy. It was full, right to the brim. She hadn't drunk any of it...I thought she'd just latched on to whoever came in because she was too drunk, but...but she was going to remember what happened...

"So for the next few weeks I avoided her completely. Which was tough, because, ironically, she thought it was the perfect time to start being chatty again. But I didn't know what to do – what to say, so I just worked and never said a word to her after that. I guess I was scared. But she eventually got the hint, and she only came in to my office to deliver me paperwork instead of trying to chat me up all the time. Which was fine with me. But one day, mixed in with the other paperwork, there was a transfer form that she'd filled out for herself. I don't know if she thought I wouldn't notice and just sign it, or if she wanted me to notice and say something...

"But I felt bad that I'd hurt her feelings enough to make her want to leave. So I went to her after work and told her not to go. It was stupid, because Captains don't have the right to keep personnel assigned to their Division against their will – and besides, she'd been vice-Captain for longer than I'd been around, so I really had no right...But I told her anyway, and we started yelling. She was really sad and almost crying, and said that if I ever stopped talking to her again she would leave right away.

"So then we started talking. We talked for a long time – I guess because I'd been silent for so long before that. But I wasn't sure if that was enough, or if she still wanted to leave, so the next night I asked her to talk with me on the roof. We talked about what she'd decided to do, and she told me she'd stay so long as I didn't go quiet on her. So, to be safe, I asked her to talk the next night, and the night after, and the night after...

"We started talking every night on the roof, at first about work-related things, but she couldn't focus on that for very long. We just started talking about anything, and after a while, I realized something: we had absolutely nothing in common. We were opposites in nearly every way, we bickered about every little thing, from food choices to the weather. She was insufferable! And it should have been really annoying...but it wasn't. And after that we started talking more during the day, like the way Captain Kyoraku talks to his people...I felt really relaxed around her, like i was—"

"Her friend," Ichigo interrupted.

Toshiro nodded. "I'd never tried to get to know her that way before. She'd always just been my vice-Captain, but I found myself enjoying the things I learned about her. And I got to know her really well. And, on the few nights where we didn't get to talk because she was out drinking or something, I didn't sleep very well, and—"

"You don't have to keep going. I know this story already," Ichigo told him. "So, why not just tell her you love her?"

Toshiro stopped short. "I...don't know if I do. Maybe I don't."

"That means you do," Ichigo told him. When Toshiro gave him a lost look, he explained. "Most people don't get this, but there's actually no middle ground between being friends with someone and being in love with them," he said. "There's no _maybe_, there's just _yes_ or _no_. There are different _ways_ to love someone, like how you love Momo-_san_..."

Toshiro seemed to consider that. "I suppose...I can see what you mean..."

Ichigo waited until Toshiro met his eyes, then raised a brow. "Oh, then you do love Momo-_san _after all. Maybe you should confess to _her_ instead," he said nonchalantly.

"No! It's not like that! You said yourself it was a different way!" Toshiro defended. Ichigo responded by poking him hard in the forehead.

"Get it? Momo-_san_'s a _no_. So, what's Rangiku-_san_?"

"...Is that okay?" was what Toshiro replied with.

"Hell if I know, I fell in love with my dead best friend," Ichigo said simply. "But it was easier for me 'cause someone else blabbed that I loved her before I got to say it anyway."

"Oh..."

"But I think you ought to let her know, at least."

"But, what if she says no? Because I'm too young for her..."

"Then you'll still be friends, right? Friendship doesn't just go away when one of you does something stupid. If that happened, I don't think I'd have any friends left," Ichigo mused dryly. "Isn't that okay? Would you be okay with just staying friends?"

"No."

"Then let's go."

* * *

They found Rangiku and Kuchiki-_san_ in a tavern in _Seireitei_.

Of course.

The only surprising thing about it was that Kuchiki-_san_ seemed to actually have drunk her fill of something, something that brought a blush and a smile to her face. When Kurosaki went to see her, she guided his hand to rest upon her breast, saying, "Feel how warm I am now". It was very strange behaviour for her. He wondered what Captain Kuchiki would say to that.

After Kurosaki was done being surprisingly flustered at touching his fiencé's chest, he said something about getting Kuchiki-_san_ to bed, and carried her out as she called a rather loud farewell to Rangiku.

Then they were alone.

He slid into the seat across from Rangiku in the booth, where Kuchiki-_san_ had just sat. "Matsumoto," he said formally, "I want to talk to you about something."

Rangiku was already blushing as well. "Sure, Captain, what's up?" she said, seeming rather dazed.

No, it wasn't the right time. Not when she was like this.

Toshiro rose again. "Actually, it can wait. I have some paperwork to finish before I turn in," he rambled as he went to leave.

Rangiku grasped his arm so quick and hard that her palm slapped loudly against his wrist.

"I'm not drunk, you know," she said with renewed clarity. "And you know what I said about you not talking to me," she threatened. She sounded suddenly serious.

"Could you really do that?" Toshiro decided to ask. He had to know. "Could you really leave so readily, just because I don't say anything to you for a while? If I went back and signed the form for you, could you be gone by tomorrow?" he asked. "Because if so, then we're very different."

Toshiro stopped to wince as Rangiku's grip on his wrist tightened painfully. He thought she was going to yell at him, but she stood up in silence. She circled around him, and once she was behind, he felt the chain across his chest snap.

She'd pulled Hyorinmaru right off his back, and was just _walking away_ with it. Quickly. Was it some kind of revenge for him being cheeky about her leaving? If it was, it was weird revenge. But he couldn't let her just _take_ him.

He pursued. He followed her out the tavern door into the cool night and ran for a distance, when suddenly Hyorinmaru, sheath and all, came flying at his face. He caught it right before he was swallowed up by something warm and soft.

Two somethings.

As her bosom pressed against Toshiro's face, Rangiku looped one arm around his back and spread the fingers of her other hand across the back of his head. Hyorinmaru slipped right out of his hands. He'd have to apologize to him later.

"Sorry," Rangiku whispered down to him. "I had to make sure you were gonna follow me."

Oh, wow, she smelled _good_. So good. Toshiro hoped it wasn't just his mind that was making the sweet scent of roses out of the reek of alcohol, or else he really was in deep.

With much effort, mostly because she was holding him so tight to her, Toshiro managed to turn his head to the side so that he could speak un-muffled. It was quite embarrassing, but he still didn't pull away.

"Rangiku," he said. He felt his vice-Captain jump at hearing her given name come out of his mouth. "I..."

"What is it, Captain?" she cooed.

"I...love you, I think," he finally said, before adding "Sorry".

Rangiku began stroking the back of his head. "Why are you apologizing?"

"It was an accident," he admitted.

She chuckled at that. "Well then, I guess we're both hopeless, huh?" she asked.

Did that mean—?

No, probably not. "I know...that I'm too young," he said. He had meant to say _not hold enough_, but she might have taken that as him calling her old, so he forced out a more despised alternative. "Sorry..."

"Stop apologizing already. Can't you tell? I just said I loved you, too."

Toshiro's face heated up like it was in front of a fire, though it might have been due to his close proximity...

"Oh...thank you..." He didn't know how else to respond.

"Jeez, you're really not good at this, are you?" she said tenderly.

He decided then to show her how good he could be. He wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her in closer, which was, surprisingly enough, still possible. He made sure any air that existed between them was squeezed out. He was glad he'd turned to the side, or else he'd suffocate. But, if he _had_ to die...

"I know I'm young...but can that be okay, until I'm a little older?" he asked.

He heard Rangiku sigh through a smile. "Don't be so eager, Captain," she said playfully. "I bet you're enjoying being so much shorter than me right now, right?"

"Shut up."

"Aw, don't be like that," she whined. "You're a young man, after all. It's natural for you to like things like this."

"I said shut up. You're the one who ambushed _me_," Toshiro pointed out.

"But you didn't pull away, Captain."

"...Shut up."


	24. Chapter 24

"Captain Kyoraku, Captain Ukitake, Captain Hirako, Captain Muguruma, Captain Zaraki," the old man rifled off, his unmistakable tone a leathery slap to the ears. "You have been called here to discuss an important coming event in Soul Society...the adoption of a second Deputy _Shinigami_."

His words hung in the air between the six of them until they were drowned in the ensuing tension. Nobody would say anything, and damn if Shinji was going to be the first to do it. He'd only accepted his former position five years ago, after the war, and it still felt...tenuous.

"So what exactly are we discussing here, Yama-_jii_," Kyoraku chimed in, as tension-shatteringly casual as ever. "Seems to me like you've already made a decision."

"That is the precisely the opposite of the truth," came Yamamoto. Jeez, couldn't the geezer just say _Nope_ or something like a normal person? His way of talking really rubbed Shinji wrong. "I have called you five here to convince me whether or not to accept this new _Shinigami_."

Whoa. Quite a responsibility there. Shinji had never felt so trusted by the old man, or more afraid of him. His temper was something else – if Shinji said the wrong thing...

Shinji took what he feared could have been his last breath. "Excuse me, but why us five, then?" he chanced. Then waited...

"Most of you share a personal connection to our most recently-appointed Deputy, Ichigo Kurosaki. Given what you know of his accomplishments in the position, you may prove useful in judging whether or not this new appointment will be equally successful," he explained. And Shinji kept right on breathing. Wow.

"Does this mean you think there's a chance something could go wrong?" Kensei piped up from beside Shinji, where he sat unceremoniously, leaned back with one leg bent up and the other tucked beneath it. He acted like he was simply lazing about and chatting with an old friend...and Shinji felt jealous from his position of back-achingly straight posture and leg-numbing formality.

"Nothing is ever certain. There is always the possibility of things going awry," Yamamoto pointed out sternly.

"You're referring to Kugo Ginjo," Kyoraku said with a knowing smirk. Yamamoto took a moment to nod solemnly. "Well, who's the new guy, then? Does he resemble Kugo, or Ichigo-_kun_?"

"I suppose you might say they resemble Ichigo Kurosaki," Yamamoto said contemplatively. "It's his younger sister."

Whoa, wait, Ichigo had one of those?

Shinji was relieved to see that everyone else seemed as bewildered as he felt.

"How did this happen?" asked Ukitake, breaking the stunned silence. "How did she become a _Shinigami_?"

"Using the same method as did Ichigo, I understand," Yamamoto answered, sounding slightly miffed. "I've been told it was a special circumstance." He didn't seem to believe that part.

"What? But that's—"

"Beyond our jurisdiction," Yamamoto cut in. Shinji was wholly surprised that the old man thought _anything_ was outside his jurisdiction. "The one who performed the act was Kisuke Urahara, who is already in exile. Unfortunately," Yamamoto continued a tad bitterly, "I do not have the resources to waste bringing him here to be tried for his actions. As a former Captain and compatriot of two others, it would take no less than that to bring him here, if successful at all. The Central 46 is still in the process of reorganizing since their decimation by Aizen years ago, and we too are still fortifying our defences to assure no such thing happens again."

Yamamoto's fists were clenched as he inhaled, preparing to continue. It looked like he had struggled with this issue already by himself.

"Therefore," he went on, seeming to have reclaimed some calmness, "we shall instead focus on determining the merit of this new potential addition to our ranks."

"And if we decide against letting her in?" Kensei asked seriously.

"Then her _Saketsu_ and _Hakusui _shall be pierced immediately, and she will be rendered powerless," said the old man simply.

"And what's stopping us from doing that now?" Kensei pressed. Shinji wondered why he seemed so anxious about the prospect of a new Deputy, but his train of thought was derailed when Yamamoto went on.

"Captain Korotsuchi has informed me that there is a strong possibility that she will turn out prodigious like her brother, and therefore prove quite useful as another war potential, should the need ever arise," the old man said.

"A reserve soldier?" came Kyoraku.

"Precisely," Yamamoto agreed. "It would be no exaggeration to say that Ichigo Kurosaki was the sole reason the war was ended. Captain Kurotsuchi has taken that into account, and suggested considering the girl for training, in hopes that she might prove to be a match for her brother."

"So Kurotsuchi's already on-board with this?" Shinji asked in disbelief. "That's a shocker."

Yamamoto fixed Shinji with what could have been a glare. Though through the old man's eyes, maybe every look seemed like that. "He finds the girl...interesting..."

Ah, now _that_ sounded like Kurotsuchi.

"So this chick's gonna be as good a fighter as Ichigo?" Zaraki hissed in excitement. He was already tickling the hilt of his long-ass sword. He broke out in a murderous grin, which made Shinji long for another glare from the old man instead. "Count me in," he growled.

Jeez, what a simple guy.

"I agree," Ukitake piped up, to Zaraki's astonishment, it seemed. Shinji's too. "Ichigo Kurosaki is already a fine addition to our ranks, I can only see good things coming from having his sister join us," he said with a cheerful smile. "I'll have the Twelfth produce another badge right away if need be."

"That goes for me too, Yama-_jii_," Kyoraku said with a grin as he slapped Ukitake on the back in a comradely way. "No way any relative of Ichigo-_kun_'s is gonna turn sour like Kugo, so count me in too."

But Kensei broke the cycle. He seemed deep in thought as he gazed in defocus at the _tatami_ mats beneath them. Finally, he spoke, sounding really unlike himself.

"I trained with Ichigo myself," he said without taking his eyes from the floor. "It's true he did really well, but that's because he was unpredictable – And the same goes for when he beat Aizen..." said the pensive Kensei. "He won with pure bullheadedness all the way; he only stayed alive 'cause he was too stupid to know when he was dead...Is someone like that...okay to put our trust in again?" he asked.

"That is your decision, Captain Muguruma. It is why you were called here," said the old man.

Then came the last thing Shinji expected: Kensei grinned. "What the hell," he said, tilting his head up to lock eyes with Zaraki, "can't be any worse than you, right?" Rather than be insulted, Zaraki seemed to perk up at those words, and grinned freakishly some more.

Man, what a creepy—

Oh...

Shinji realized that everyone was staring at him. Of course, he hadn't answered yet himself.

"Captain Hirako?" the old man's voice invaded.

Shinji let himself get away with a single chuckle, mostly to calm himself. "As if I'm gonna be the one guy not to join the fun," he said. "I'm in."

"Then you've convinced me. With Captain Kurotsuchi's own vote, the count is seven, bringing us into the majority. It's decided: Karin Kurosaki shall receive our support," the old man said with finality. His own opinion seemed neither here nor there, which was odd for him. But then again, this whole meeting had been odd. "Next," he went on, surprising Shinji, "I am told it's been decided that she will learn _shunpo_, in addition to her continuing lessons in swordsmanship, which Urahara has already introduced her to."

"Swordsmanship and _shunpo_," came Kyoraku with a devious grin. "Seems like we already know the prime candidate to be her _sensei_..."

"You don't mean—" Kensei began, but Kyoraku cut him off.

"Who else can?" he asked. "You and Shinji-_kun_ are still shuffling things around after retaking control of your Divisions, so it's not like you have the time; Ukitake doesn't have the energy needed to take on a student like that; and you can rule out him" – he jutted a thumb in Zaraki's direction – "and Mayuri-_san_, because they'd both end up slicing her up sooner or later."

"And yourself?"

At that, Kyoraku smirked. "I'm busy," was all he gave.

"Hold on," interjected Ukitake, suddenly lost. "Why does Urahara not simply continue her training in the Living World?"

Oh yeah. That was a good question.

"It would seem there was an accident..."

* * *

Karin hadn't seen Urahara-_san_ since that day, when—

She felt dumb now, having worried so much about her...development. She should have been focusing more that day.

But seriously, how big were they going to get? She had to be nearly a C-cup already, and that meant she was still ahead of Yuzu. Worst of all, Yuzu actually seemed _jealous _of them. Well, if she wanted them, she could haven them; they weren't anything but trouble to Karin, and she bet Jinta would appreciate them on her sister.

Sports bras did great until you realized that you didn't decide what clothing your soul popped out wearing. She'd never bothered to check before, because it had only recently become an issue, but it felt like wraps around her chest. Like bandages, maybe. Whatever it was, it didn't feel like enough.

She had already begun to feel uneasy around Urahara-_san_ because of it by the time he finally unsheathed Benihime. Her own sword had suddenly appeared when she exited her body maybe a week prior, which signalled to Urahara-_san_ that it was the right time to step up their training. Karin agreed – she'd been waiting for a _real_ swordfight for forever, and now she was going to prove—

Prove that she really was hopeless. _Come at me as if you intend to kill me_. That's what he'd said. But Karin couldn't do that, and when she hesitated – either because of the uncontrolled movements of her body, or because he was her friend – she paid the price: Benihime drew across her stomach in a cold rush, but the gash burned only a second later. Urahara-_san_ had withdrawn enough to ensure the slice was shallower than it could have been, but that didn't stop the bile rising in her throat as the fever reached her temples. She'd clapped her hands over her mouth for as long as she could and tried to get some distance between them...

But he just _kept following her. _She could tell he said her name each time he caught up to her, but only barely, because to her it sounded like he was talking into a pillow. She wanted desperately to push him away, but letting go of her face wasn't an option, and she was very dizzy. Finally, she'd had to release.

She didn't remember anything after that – she'd passed out. Tessai-_san_ had apparently used some kind of _kido_ magic to fix her stomach, and at some point someone had called her dad, because he was hovering over her when she woke up. But she didn't care about any of that – she'd thrown up in front of him. She felt sick even though her stomach had knitted back together, and as feverish as ever, though this time with embarrassment. She wanted to go home. She wanted it to be over.

And her dad had yelled at Urahara-_san_. She'd never seen him like he was that day, and Urahara-_san_ just stood there and took it. Karin felt awful for him, but when her dad picked her up to carry her home, she didn't struggle. She was so embarrassed!

So she decided that it could be over.

But just because her training had come to an end didn't mean she planned to give up on fighting to protect her family. Armed with her very own _zanpakuto_, she took her first trip out on patrol three days later, making Yuzu use on her the glove with the flaming skull on it that Urahara-_san_ had given her.

It wasn't long before she found one, and it seemed like a small-fry, but in the end, she couldn't handle even it. Stopping her training short had cost her, and the Hollow batted her away more than once as if she were a fly. It was only thanks to Yoruichi-_san_ that she wasn't beaten to a pulp. That's when she suggested it: _If you don't have the strength, then you have to become faster_, she'd said. It made sense; Yoruichi-_san_ was _very_ fast, and used no sword at all. But her dad had already forbade her from training at the _Shoten_ or accepting help from its residence...

So now she was here, sitting on a park bench in the middle of the night, Yoruichi-_san_ standing behind, waiting for...whatever was supposed to happen. A meeting or something?

"If this is going to work, you've gotta keep your surname to yourself," Yoruichi-_san_ warned. Karin didn't question her and nodded.

Twin sliding paper doors suddenly appeared a little while later, and through them came a tall, very handsome guy with black hair and a really nice white coat. At his hip was a sword whose hilt guard looked like an addition sign inside of a square, or maybe a window.

"Good to see you, Little Byakuya," Yoruichi-_san_ seemed to tease the man.

The guy barely acknowledged her and let his cold gaze fall straight down on Karin. "I assume this is her," he said. He looked severely unimpressed.

"Yes, Karin. She lives around here," Yoruichi-_san_ explained.

The man didn't care. "She's younger than I expected," he said. Then, he half-turned back to the still-opened doors to nowhere. "I refuse," he said simply.

"I thought Yamamoto already informed you of the situation. You wouldn't disobey a direct order from the Commander, right?" Yoruichi-_san_ asked, sounding sly.

"And I did not," the man came back at her. "I was merely ordered to meet with you and see her, but it is still my prerogative to decline training her. I will not babysit a child," he said curtly.

"She's not a child, she's sixteen," Yoruichi-_san_ defended.

"Nevertheless, it would be unbecoming of one such as myself to train an _illegal_," he said, spitting the last word like venom.

"Oh, so you're just going to ignore her because she's not on your level?" Yoruichi-_san _asked the man, but mischievously and without anger. "You're going to let your nobility stop you from even _bothering_ with a common girl?"

The man's dark eyes found Yoruchi-_san_'s, and he stared at her frighteningly. "I know what you're trying to do, and it will not work," he said dangerously.

"Then it must be that you're scared that you can't do as well as me," she said pompously.

"What are you talking about?" asked the man, maybe the least bit intrigued.

"Well, I _could_ train her, but of course, I'm the _Shunshin_. I don't doubt that I could have her running circles around you in one month's time," she boasted, though Karin only followed some of it. "Perhaps you've realized that, and you're backing out because you're afraid you'd just mess it up."

"I already gave you my reason," the man replied.

"Care to prove it?" Yoruichi-_san_ baited him. "Do you think you can have her catch me after one month?"

"Catch _you_?" the man repeated. "Are you suggesting a game of tag?" His monotone actually seemed to tilt slightly to the side of amusement.

"Just like back then, except this time, you can prove how great you are by making something of this girl here," Yoruichi-_san_ told him, clasping Karin's shoulders in her hands.

The man seemed to consider whatever it was they were talking about before he spoke. "Unfortunately, I am quite busy, and I don't have a month to spare on her..."

And then it seemed lost, until...

"But I will do it in two weeks."


	25. Chapter 25

_September again, huh? _Ichigo thought despairingly as he absently held his pencil between his nose and pursed lips, dully tapping at his jaw with one finger as he stared unfocused at the wall against his desk.

_Two more after this, and then_...

Then they could get married, they'd decided. Waiting until he was completely finished school was going to be hard – harder than hard – but they'd both agreed that it was for the best. And besides, being married wouldn't be that different, right? It wasn't as if it would feel different; they'd be the same couple they were, just...married. He'd proposed as a promise to continue on together _after_ he died, but until that happened, it was really just ceremony.

But then why was he so anxious? Why did he want it so badly? Why had his professor's entire lecture on whatever subject it had been fallen on deaf ears as he played the scene out over and over in his head? What was he, some kind of _sap_? Jeez!

The _clack_ of the pencil hitting his desk made him jump.

After all, it wasn't as if being married meant greater access to her, simply being done school would take care of that, and he was sure they'd be spending far more time than one measly day a week in their meeting place in _Rukongai_. In nine months, only 39 nights spend together – 36 for each week in that time, plus extra visits on New Year's and each others' birthday. And though New Year's had been particularly spectacular, that wasn't nearly enough days! But apparently that was also for the best, she'd told him, just like waiting three more damn years was also the best.

Man, the _best_ was pretty shitty, actually.

Well, at least it gave him something to look forward to each week, but for the five days in between, there weren't enough Hollows in all of _Hueco Mundo_ to distract him from his...readiness. On top of that, there were barely enough Hollows _at all_ since the war. He guessed that was a good thing, and he'd thought it had been because all of the _Vasto Lorde_, who were the leaders, had been killed...

But there were whispers in the Divisions of some "Queen" of Hollows who was still out there, and some that said maybe she was simply amassing forces and biding her time until...

_Until I kick her ass_, Ichigo thought. He wasn't very worried about her, and had more interesting things to think about: like the mysterious newbie Rukia had heard about – though never seen – who was apparently brought on to help in case the "Queen" made a move. Ichigo had never heard of the _Gotei_ 13 using reservists like in Living World armies, but maybe since the war, things had changed over there. He didn't know why the new guy was supposed to be so special though, but apparently he had the potential to become really strong. _A second Ichigo_, some had said. That was embarrassing.

But they were all just rumours. Nobody seemed to know anything for sure, or if they did they'd been told to keep quiet about it. Ichigo sometimes got the feeling, whenever he ran into him during a weekend rendezvous, that Shinji knew something – but that clown's creepy-ass grin was suspicious to begin with, and he could just as easily be thinking about bunnies and rainbows as something secret and be just as clownish about it.

Dammit, bunnies reminded him of _her_ now. Ugh! Sometimes he still hated being in love.

His birthday gift to her had been as unimpressive to him as it was absolutely magical to her: a second rabbit charm made specifically for the necklace he'd bought her. It was exactly the same as the first one save for being polished white instead of silver, and if you strung it next to and facing the first rabbit, they seemed to be leaping at each other and touching noses – rabbit-kissing, he guessed. He hadn't been sure she'd like something so small...

But afterward, whenever he felt the two charms bump the end of his nose as they swung wildly back and forth, he wondered why he'd ever doubted it.

_No, stop it, dammit! Don't think about that!_

But the Soul Candy was already in Ichigo's mouth by the time he finished that thought.

He let out a chuckle at Kon's expense when body and soul were separated, with the force of it sending his body out of the chair and into the desk, on which Kon smacked his face. _His _face. Wait, maybe it wasn't that funny...

"I'm going out. Don't do any homework, I don't want to fail again," Ichigo warned as he rose and made for the window. His body sprang up, clutching its nose and looking ticked.

"Hey! You said I could help! That's the thanks I get?!" Kon growled in his nasally tone.

"_Tch_. That was before you drew lewd things all over my assignment," Ichigo griped. At that, Kon took on a whimsical grin.

"I couldn't help it. The assignment made me think of Orihime-_san_..." he said, lost in memory. "Orihime-_san_..." he repeated in a quiet, longing whine to himself.

"Jeez, don't get all depressed," Ichigo said as a opened the window and stepped up onto the sill, "you'll make me look like a chump."

"Can I go out and buy something?" Kon suddenly asked with renewed cheer.

"Sure, whatever," Ichigo gave. "Just be back tonight by the time I get back," he ordered.

"When's that?" Kon asked.

"...Just be back tonight." With that, Ichigo leaped out the window.

* * *

To say that Byakuya's training style differed from Urahara-_san_'s was to point out the difference between a kitten and a tiger – he was a true taskmaster, a consummate slave-driver. And to say he was a complete asshole was to say the sky was blue.

At first he'd merely seemed uninterested in Karin, and mildly resentful of having to go through the motions of training her against his will. But his indifference was quick to morph into outright annoyance, and it showed whenever she arrived after school to train with him in the courtyard of his vast estate, where he could bother with her unseen by the rest of his Division, who were likewise entirely unseen by her. She couldn't help but get the distinct feeling that he was embarrassed to be seen with her, and she felt like some puppy off the street who'd followed him home, and he was allergic to dogs – maybe one had chewed up his favourite white coat or something – because he really seemed to detest her as a concept.

Where Urahara-_san_ was tough but encouraging and helpful, Byakuya was tough, but also mean and callous. He gave her no pointers past his initial instructions which had gone by far too quickly, and he refused to repeat them even once!

She remembered that Yoruichi-_san_ had suggested learning what she called _shunpo_ because Karin had strong legs, but as each day passed, she felt like she'd been grossly overestimated. She'd thought maybe _shunpo_ made it so that if you were really good, you'd basically be a blur to your opponent. But Byakuya just flickered out of existence altogether and reappeared somewhere else, like he was _teleporting_. Karin couldn't do that. She tried and tried and tried, but she couldn't. And who could expect her to?

Byakuya, apparently; but then again, maybe not. She really couldn't tell if he pushed her so hard because he believed in her, or because he wanted her to just give up like he already had on her. Probably the second one.

If she did something wrong – which was everything, it seemed – he merely glowered at her and told her to do it better without offering new instruction, occasionally spicing it up with veiled jabs at her abilities and insulting double-meanings. She thought she hated that most of all.

No, it was everything about him, because he was like that through and through. He looked nice – well, not _nice_, but he looked handsome...like, _really_ handsome. She hated to admit that he was the best-looking guy she'd ever seen, and he moved with such grace that she thought he could probably stride across water without disturbing it. _But_, that was just another double-meaning, because underneath he was the coldest guy she'd ever met, even worse than her brother had been the first couple of years after Rukia-_san_ left. And that had been pretty cold.

But she had to work past that, because she wasn't there to make him proud, and that was impossible anyway. She was there for Yuzu, to protect _her_. Urahara-_san_ had explained to her that Hollows would probably seek her out because of her powers, which meant that Yuzu might be around when they did. They shared a bedroom, after all.

And whenever she thought of a Hollow breaking into their bedroom, it came with drudged-up memories which clutched painfully at her chest, just as the first Hollow she'd ever encountered had done in her eleventh year. But those thoughts only lasted a short while, and were quickly replaced in a sickening wave by the memories of being crushed by a second Hollow later on, in the May of that year. Twice she'd been the collateral damage of her brother's own ability to attract Hollows, and twice she'd feared for her very life, sure she was going to die. Yuzu couldn't go through that – she _wouldn't_, and Karin would make sure of it.

It was just—_shunpo_ wasn't working. So maybe swordplay would?

* * *

Hadn't Yamamoto said the girl had been trained already by Urahara? If so, why was she so awful?

Her swings were broad and clumsy, her footing weak and her defence riddled with holes. If this was what Urahara passed on to those he trained, Byakuya dared not think what it said about the man's own prowess, or the danger Soul Society had likely been in with him as a Captain.

Byakuya did not even have to unsheathe his sword, let alone raise it. He sidestepped her with ease, and of course, his forearm could take a graze from the flimsy _zanpakuto_ without harm when he wanted, her _reiatsu_ was so lacking. He was starting to believe that he had been outright lied to about this girl, because whomever she was, it wasn't who everyone seemed to think. What had made her so special in the eyes of those fools? Were they really so desperate to bolster their ranks after the war that they'd recruit random kids off the streets of the Living World the moment they accidentally stumbled onto some spiritual power?

And worse yet, they'd allow their Captains to waste their valuable time proving that the Commander had made an error in judgement. What was the _Gotei _13 coming to?

Byakuya didn't have the time to think on that, not any he wanted to waste, anyway. So he unsheathed Senbonzakura, doing the _zanpakuto_ a great disservice at the same time. Clashing with a weak, novice blade such as this girl's was about as degrading to his sword as being forced to train her was to Byakuya. But this needed to be over, because they were making even less headway in this area than in _shunpo_ – and Byakuya was mildly surprised that such was possible. So he'd have Senbonzakura let her down for him, and hopefully she'd at least abandon the fool's quest of learning how to properly wield a sword.

If he was lucky, she'd give up altogether and return home; though having to spend the last forteen afternoons training her said little for his good fortune.

He didn't even swing Senbonzakura, just let him fall. And her sword went down with him to be pinned underneath, as easily as if he'd swatted a handkerchief from the air instead. But when he lifted his _zanpakuto_ once more and the two blades scraped together for a breath, he noticed something.

Her eyes. He noticed her eyes as they looked longingly up at him, glinting sad and scared together.

And next he noticed her _zanpakuto_'s tip, which had been brought centimetres from his face before he broke contact with those eyes. He hadn't even—

She held the sword to his face with all the confidence of someone gripping a venomous asp, as if terrified that the blade itself would lash out at her for deigning to raise it at Byakuya. Her eyebrows were knit together and her forehead creased in fear, and her small hands quivered.

Of course, the flaws in her style were not the surprising element of it all. Noticing them had become as natural to him as blinking. What rattled Byakuya – though not enough to show on his face, of course – was the fact that she'd somehow managed to get that far without him realizing. Not that he was in any danger even if she decided to follow through and plunge the sword at his face: the blade would break before his skin did at that point. But...

He couldn't be sure why, but he pushed her _zanpakuto_ aside using Senbonzakura's blade rather than just his hand.

_Clink._

And she was falling.

Hisana was falling.

Byakuya managed to catch her just before she hit the cobblestone, but the limpness of his wife's body in his hands terrified him so much that he nearly let her slip again. She was cold, too cold for a spring day, and her breathing was strangled. He wanted to grip her, hold her tighter and closer, thinking that maybe she'd snap out of it if she knew he was right there – but she felt so small, so frail, that he feared clutching to her might cause her to break and he'd lose her forever. His heavy, sickened breaths were all that reached his ears, and each inhale and exhale was like a tick in a countdown to him vomiting, because he felt so sick.

"Byakuya...

_I'm here, it's okay. It's going to be o—_

..._sensei..._"

Byakuya-_sensei_? Had he misheard?

A cool breeze danced across his cheek as Karin's wild eyes stared up into his, reminding him that it was not spring, but autumn, and the umpteenth September since that day...

That day when his wife fallen, and he _hadn't_ managed to catch her.

Then Karin's eyes rolled back and were white, and Byakuya remembered himself. He quickly pulled in his cascading _reiatsu_, pulling a desperate gasp out of her along with it. She choked on the air she swallowed and coughed before gulping in more – she'd been suffocating.

When had he lost hold of his _reiatsu_?

Byakuya stood, bringing the unconscious girl up with him in his arms. Her forehead glistened with sweat which wasn't the result of swordfighting, and she shivered bodily. She was not well.

And that was going to be trouble from the Commander if something wasn't done.


	26. Chapter 26

Karin awoke just in time to feel a cool, damp cloth be placed on her forehead, but didn't open her eyes. She could feel the beginnings of a headache behind them and feared the light would only make it worse. Luckily for her, the strength to lift her eyelids didn't seem to be with her anyway. She felt hopelessly fatigued, and worried she might not be able to get out of—

A bed? Was she in a bed? If she was, then that meant she was home again. She should have relaxed at that, but thoughts of her bed now went hand-in-hand with worries of a Hollow's home invasion. One could burst in while she was laying there all weak and helpless, and with her dad's powers still returning, that meant it would have every chance to make short work of Yuzu.

She was aware that her fist clenched, but didn't feel it, her fingertips were so numb. She wanted to sit up right then, but all feeling seemed to have been pulled from her body up into her now-throbbing head, because the rest of her was as numb and heavy as if she were dead. Maybe she was close. God, what had happened to her?

More importantly, what had happened to _Byakuya_?

She'd never seen his steely eyes go so wide before, not that _so wide_ for Byakuya was even wide for anyone else. Still, she'd seen his emotionless mask slip for a split second, as if he were scared of her, and it was the last thing she saw. Right after that, she'd felt something unseen slam into her and then seem to start squeezing the life out of her, choking off her breath as it constricted her entire chest. She'd only barely managed to squeak out his name to try and snap him out of his daze before everything went black.

_Yuzu_, she mouthed, her voice refusing to join her lips. She tried again. "Y...Yuzu..."

Well, it was whisper-quiet and raspy, but it was _something_.

"Please don't try to speak, Miss," came a voice that was definitely too old to be her sister's. She strained to open her eyes, and after her vision stopped swimming, found the voice's owner: an older-looking woman with an easy, many-lined smile, dressed in a white smock over some surprisingly expensive-looking clothes. Her grey-brown hair was done up in a tight bun, over which was draped a silken handkerchief, tied about her head like you did when you cleaned.

And this wasn't her room either. It was closer in size to her den at home...or maybe even the entire first floor. Her view of the expansive place was segmented by the posts that rose up from the ends of the bed to suspend the sagging silk canopy above her, and was completely hidden on one side by the bed's silky curtain, wafting in the breeze which eased in through the large, open window beside it. The older woman stood, hands folded, on the other side of the bed, which had its curtain pulled back.

"...Where am I?" Karin asked weakly.

"The Kuchiki estate, Miss," answered the woman cheerily but softly. "I'm glad to see you're awake, you were unconscious for quite a while."

Before Karin could ask how long she'd been out, she was cut off by an intense pang in her stomach which accompanied a rather embarrassing growl. She blushed, but the older woman grinned.

"I see your appetite hasn't left you," she said with a happy nod, "that's good news." With that, she left, Karin hoped, to get food. She'd never felt so hungry in her life, even after a soccer game. But she wasn't going to be _fed_ by that woman, so she rather painfully hauled herself up so that the pillow on which her head had rested now supported her back.

A while later, long enough for Karin to nearly nod off again while waiting, the woman returned, jarring her. She blinked heavily at the woman as she spoke. "Dinner is ready, Miss," she informed her.

"...Alright," said Karin hesitantly. Then the woman half-turned to splay her hand out at the open door behind her.

"It will be served in the dining hall. Please feel free to make your way down whenever you feel well enough," she said politely.

"Oh...I don't think..." Karin tried, but her legs failed her, "I can't walk," she admitted resignedly.

"Please take your time, Miss. There's plenty to go around," said the woman. When she caught Karin's rather desperate expression, she sighed somewhat sadly. "Unfortunately," she began compassionately, "Byakuya-_sama_ has forbade eating in bed. It is...improper," she repeated, though she said the last word without meaning it.

Karin huffed in exasperation. "Could you at least help me out of bed?" she pleaded. Again, the woman took on a forlorn look.

"Byakuya-_sama_ has told us that you must stand on your own. He said...that you should be able to walk by yourself."

He _did_, huh?

* * *

Byakuya had to admit, he was surprised when Karin came hobbling into the dining hall. He'd expected that maybe she'd simply resign and fall asleep once more. Just as well, rest would do her as much good as food at the moment, but it seemed she was very determined. Her eyes were very cold as she glared at him, and for once he thought he might understand what others felt when he looked upon _them_. And he was mildly amused at that...

No, no he wasn't. This girl was bothersome, not amusing.

"I see you're feeling better," he gave her, but she didn't respond. He gestured to a servant to begin bringing out the dinner courses, and together they ate in silence.

The girl was ravenous, though it was unsurprising.

When enveloped in a _reiatsu_ far beyond one's own, the soul naturally tried to fend it off by pushing against the oppressing force. But that meant squeezing out its own_ reiatsu_ to compete with the other, and though it ensured that one didn't get crushed under its power, it also drained the soul, and to a much greater extent if the opposing _reiatsu_ was of Captain-level. It greatly surprised Byakuya that hers had been enough to hold up against his for that amount of time, especially since her hours of training had already exhausted a fair amount of it beforehand.

Maybe there was something more to her than he'd first assumed. Strictly ability-wise, of course.

...No. He would only be lying if he denied that there was something _else_ in her. Something dangerous. Something which ensured that this would be her first and last meal in Soul Society.

Size was not a factor to a _Shinigami_ who was completely empty of _reiatsu_, and they would simply eat until it was replenished, even if the amount of food consumed could not logically fit in the stomach.

Such was certainly true for the girl, and she mostly ignored him in favour of food, though whenever their eyes did meet, she would slow and become a little pink. But her eyes never softened.

About an hour later, when the last of the plates had been cleared, Byakuya took his chance to finally speak. "I trust you've had your fill."

"...Sorry, _sensei_," she said meekly, drawing her shoulders up close to her face and planting her hands firmly in her lap, looking embarrassed. Where had all the anger gone? Why was she being like _that_? In a way that was almost—

"It would be best if you ceased coming to Soul Society," said Byakuya. That was becoming truer by the moment, at least to him.

Karin blinked at him, shocked. "What? But I'm not done training yet," she whined. It was, he was relieved to admit to himself, annoying.

"It is clear to me that you are not fit for life as a _Shinigami_. I shall inform the Commander of this assessment, and you shall be freed of any future obligations to Soul Society," he explained, he thought, very clearly. There should have been no problem.

But of course, there was.

"That's not fair!" she yelled. Her vigour had obviously returned with the intake of food. "I'm sorry I imposed on you, but...but I..."

_This_ was precisely why she needed to leave, now. Not because of the incident earlier, which had been entirely his fault, and had in fact revealed to him her _reiatsu_'s potency; and it was of no consequence to let her use his sister's room when she barely did so herself anymore, let alone share his food, of which there was always too much, especially since Rukia came around far less often. No, the very reason she had to leave was the way she begged to stay, with a hurt in her eyes that threatened to infect even Byakuya himself.

A dangerous thing, indeed.

"Enough," he said to stop her stammering. "I have made my decision. You shall leave tonight and not return. This is not the life for you."

"Did I...do something wrong?" she asked, staring down at her lap, sounding profoundly sad.

"On the contrary," came Byakuya later than he'd intended, after he'd regained the power to speak, "the mistake was mine. I should never have accepted to train you."

The pain in Karin's glistening eyes might have hit the common man hard enough to sway him, but Byakuya steeled himself, as was usual in those situations.

"Let us go," he said.

* * *

It felt great to stretch his legs again, Kon thought, even if they weren't strictly _his_ legs.

He happily lapped up his strawberry ice cream from the cone as the arm which held the bag with the adult magazine inside swung back and forth with his excitement. He had to admit, there were perks to Ichigo being engaged to _Neesan_, because he'd needed Kon in his body more and more often. But he still resented the reason.

He took note of how low the sun had gotten as he realized where he'd strolled to. He would have to run all the way back to Ichigo's university quite fast to make his deadline, but that was no problem for legs like his. So he guessed he could afford to linger a little longer before turning back.

His lingering brought him to the Urahara _Shoten_, where he felt he hadn't been in ages. He took in the place with a sense of nostalgia. It was exactly the same as he remembered. So of course, he realized when it suddenly became glaringly different.

Those paper doors definitely hadn't been there before, not in the middle of the grounds.

They parted to let a small _Shinigami _with black hair pass through.

"_Neesa—_"

_Oh. Not _Neesan.

"Karin...?"

Ichigo's sister knocked into Kon hard enough to force the breath from his lungs and send his ice cream to splatter on the ground. He didn't think she knew exactly whose chest she was sobbing into, but he figured he'd better put his now-free arm around her anyway.

But then her breath hitched. "...Ichigo?" she asked into his chest as if unsure. Smart kid.

"...No," answered Kon, unsure of what else to do. He started to release his hold on her, sure that she would want away from the imposter, but she instead shoved herself deeper into his chest and sobbed with renewed intensity. He replaced his arm.

"You...you're Kon-_san_...then?" she hiccoughed past her tears.

What?

"Uh...yeah." When had she—?

"Urahara-_san_ told me before," she explained, sounding weak.

"I thought—didn't you have soccer practice?" Kon asked, feeling very dumb as he did. Clearly it had been some sort of lie, but it was one Ichigo and his dad both seemed to believe. She shook her head into his chest.

"I was...training...but I...I couldn't do it," she sobbed.

Kon held her at arm's length, then turned around and crouched. "Get on," he said, holding his arms palm-up behind him.

"What?" he heard her ask.

"I'm taking you home. Get on," he repeated.

"I can..." she began to protest before seeming to realize the exhaustion that Kon had sensed in her. Whatever had happened in Soul Society had drained her, both physically and emotionally. After a moment, she complied, and he hiked her up on his back as he stood so she could drape her arms over his shoulders.

"Thanks," she said tiredly as Kon started for Isshin's house. He wouldn't be surprised if she fell asleep on the way, but that was okay.

"Don't worry about it," he told her. For a long while she was quiet, and he was sure she'd dozed off, until she piped up again.

"Were you really Bostov?" she asked, and Kon's ears twitched at the name, growing hot and probably red.

"...Yeah..."

She chuckled. A little bit later, she asked, "What's in the bag?"

Kon blushed furiously. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"But—"

"Just try to go to sleep," he said in a calming tone. She really needed sleep.

He thought she was going to argue, or continue questioning him, but not a minute later, her rhythmic breathing was tickling his ear.


	27. Chapter 27

"Captain Hirako?" said Byakuya inquisitively, having finally tracked the man down. He'd rather optimistically assumed that Shinji would be in his own Division barracks, perhaps working on some overdue paperwork, but of course he'd found him in the barracks of the Third Division, sharing a drink with Captain Otoribashi.

"Hey there, Byakuya," he said through his permanent grin, lowering the _sake_ cup from his lips.

"I've asked you to address me as Kuchiki-_san_, at least," Byakuya reminded him sternly. He knew asking for _Captain Kuchiki_ would be too much, and the level of familiarity with which Captain Hirako currently addressed him was irksome.

Captain Hirako poured himself another glass of _sake_ as he spoke without looking at Byakuya. "If we wanted to get technical, I guess the right thing to do would be to call you Byakuya-_kun_, right?" he asked, though Byakuya knew he'd only accept the wrong answer. "After all," he continued after taking his sip, "you're quite a bit younger than me, y'know."

That reminded Byakuya of why he'd sought the man out in the first place, and he resolved not to lose himself in semantics.

"I've come to ask you about Karin," Byakuya said seriously. Then he shot Captain Otoribashi a look which he hoped would leave him alone with Hirako. Instead, Otoribashi picked up the _sake_ bottle, Byakuya thought, to pour himself another glass.

But instead he shook it.

The man tutted. "You glutton, Shinji," he sighed, more disappointed than angry. "I'll get us a new bottle, but don't chug this one," he warned, and left, though not before firing a conspiratorial glance Byakuya's way.

"_Tch_, cheapskate," Hirako griped to himself.

"Captain Hirako," Byakuya called to bring the possibly-half-drunk man back on track.

"Well, spit it out, then," came Shinji suddenly, quicker than Byakuya had expected. He seemed impatient, but that was likely because he was waiting on more alcohol.

"Karin...does she happen to have any siblings?" Byakuya asked, as aloofly as he'd ever managed. Captain Hirako looked momentarily surprised, before his face relaxed back into a toothy grin, though of a different kind than earlier.

"In fact, she does," he said slyly, "I hear she has a twin sister."

His answer received, Byakuya turned to leave, only to be cut off by Captain Hirako when the man appeared before him. For being half-drunk, the man's _shunpo_ was in excellent form.

"Yes?" Byakuya asked, wanting very much to leave.

"You don't think I didn't notice did you?" he asked. "That Karin-_chan_'s _reiryoku_ hasn't popped up in a month..."

"That is none of your concern," Byakuya stated, but when he tried to sweep past Hirako, the man mirrored his maneuver so as to keep them face-to-face. This was quickly getting bothersome.

"Actually, it is, 'cause I was one of the guys who voted to bring her in," Hirako explained. Byakuya had suspected as much, considering the man's record for poor decision-making.

"And burdened _me_ with her, at that," Byakuya retorted.

"Hey, you didn't have to say _yes_," Hirako pointed out. Byakuya had no solid argument against his pride, which, having gotten the best of him for only a moment, had led to his training the girl in the first place. The demon-cat would have to answer for that some day soon.

"If you must know, I am in fact on my way to retrieve her, so if you'll excuse me..." Byakuya admitted, but Hirako again cut him off before he could leave.

"I don't care about that," he said, his grin finally melting away, revealing a seriousness behind it that Byakuya had thought impossible for the man. "I wanna know why she has to be retrieved in the first place," he pressed.

"I had...misjudged her," Byakuya told Hirako, which, after a tense moment, brought his smile rushing back. The man stepped aside, and Byakuya took his leave by way of _shunpo_, just in case Hirako got it in his head to block him again.

Byakuya hadn't lied, but he had rationed the truth. Hirako did not need to know in what way Byakuya had misjudged the girl – nobody did. It was none of his business that Byakuya had spent weeks after sending Karin away sleeplessly battling with himself, asking what of his late wife he could _possibly_ see in that _girl_. He had grown quite worried with himself by the time a fortnight had passed, when Renji had requested that they duel one-on-one.

Since the war, Renji had become notably more diligent in his training, and often challenged Byakuya to sparring matches, pitting his _shikai_ against Byakuya's _bankai_. Though he always lost, he did so more slowly each time, and even Byakuya had to acknowledge the jump in _reiryoku_ his vice-Captain had achieved over the years.

_Your zanpakuto betrays your weak resolve. _The words had left Byakuya's mouth without a thought in the heat of battle, but seemed to swing back around to slam into his chest a second later. In his shock, he'd nearly lost to Renji, but managed to claim victory despite being brought to one knee. After his vice-Captain had thanked him, rather begrudgingly, and left, Byakuya took some time to ponder his words, and what had brought them on.

Of course. It was natural in combat to be able to read your opponent's feelings when your blades connected, but it was that naturalness which had blinded Byakuya to the truth. It was especially true of _Shinigami_ who did not yet know the name of their _zanpakuto_, because without the freedom to speak and be heard, they could only cry, sending raw feelings pouring out to be caught by their opponent's swinging blades. He'd heard such crying from Zaraki's own sword numerous times.

And he knew now what the cries had said.

* * *

"_MARRIED_?"

Rather than shush his boisterous father, Ichigo folded in the man's face with his fist.

"Shut up, don't be so loud," said Ichigo exasperatedly. "I figured I'd let you know so you wouldn't be surprised when it happened and freak out, but it looks like that was a dumb idea."

"Still, this is surprising!" Ichigo's father said, completely ignoring his nose as blood streamed from it onto the table. Gross. "My gigantic prude of a son, getting married!"

Ichigo would have punched the man again, but restrained his arm so that he wouldn't end up with a fist painted with his father's disgusting nose-blood.

"I said keep it down," spat Ichigo as he blushed, quickly coming to realize what a bad idea this had been.

"Relax, no one's around," Isshin said, finally taking a swipe at his face with his sweater sleeve. Gross. "Yuzu's out with that tomato-face kid, and Karin..." he paused.

"Soccer practice, right?" Ichigo finished.

"Nah, the tournament got cancelled or something," Isshin revealed, sounding sad. "She's been pretty down about it, actually. I caught her crying the other day," he said into the bloody table.

Ichigo sneered. "Don't be stupid, Karin wouldn't cry over something like that," he said confidently. "She's probably still upset 'cause you stopped her from training with Urahara-_san_."

Isshin's expression hardened at that. "I did the right thing," he said.

"That doesn't matter to someone when they're working toward something important," Ichigo told his father. "Soul Society thought executing Rukia was gonna be the _right thing_, but I didn't care about that."

Ichigo remembered back to the day he'd rescued her: she was wearing a white garment that looked sort of like a _yukata_, which he now realized was really cute. He hated that it had happened before he loved her, or at least before he knew it, because had he known, he would have savoured his moment of heroism with her very differently...

What had happened to that _yukata_? Now it was all Ichigo could think about. He guessed it made sense that she didn't have her prison clothes anymore. Maybe he'd get her a new one, for...Well, he supposed he didn't need an occasion to give his fiancé a present.

He also made a mental note to ask Urahara-_san_ about that outfit from their date while he was at it.

"Yeah, but _you_ didn't get hurt," said Ichigo's dad, pulling him back to reality.

Wait a minute.

"I got hurt! Aizen almost cut me in half the first time!" Ichigo roared with indignation.

"Well, I'm not worried about you when it comes to stuff like that!" Isshin responded in kind, standing to meet his son eye-to-eye.

"Thanks a lot!" Ichigo bellowed sarcastically. He had to admit, he'd missed this...

Isshin cooled down alongside his son, his expression returning to its pensive state from before. "I wonder if she's gone to see him right now..."

"I could go check," Ichigo offered, more for his sister's sake than his father's.

"Nah, I trust her," he said, and it rang true.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow as the eye below it twitched with contained anger. "With me, you said it was because you didn't care what I did," he seethed.

"I still don't," Isshin said, even _proudly_, as he crossed his arms in front of his puffed-out chest. "But still, it'd reflect badly on me if you were failing your classes," he added sneakily.

"I'm not failing," Ichigo griped.

"Good."

* * *

Byakuya had actually assumed that exiting the _Senkaimon_ just outside of Kisuke Urahara's shop would mean he'd still have to track Karin down by sensing her _reiatsu_, but he could already feel the ebb and flow of it as she clashed with an average-feeling Hollow some distance away.

In one step he was there, and watched as she relentlessly came at the boar-masked beast, always clipping it as it rushed past, but failing to deal the finishing blow to its mask. But every time they sprang apart, she'd spin right around on her heel and charge again, causing the previous clash to be seemingly played out in reverse.

On and on like that it went, with neither opponent gaining a definitive upper-hand. That might have disappointed Byakuya, had he not been so consumed by relief at decidedly _not_ being in love with his former student.

Then it happened: the boar-thing rushed Karin once more, but as she mirrored it, it suddenly wheeled about on its four legs, sending its long tail to lash out like an angry snake. Karin slid on her heels as she tried desperately to change course in time. It seemed as though she wouldn't, and for some reason – probably on principle of being her mentor – Byakuya had been about to step in, when suddenly she bent her legs and—

The tail cut harmlessly through the air, its target having flickered, for the shortest of moments, out of its path. Karin had used _shunpo_. It was very rough, very short, and undeniably clumsy, of course, but it was indeed _shunpo_.

But Karin's small feat amazed her far too much. She merely stood frozen before the beast, as if afraid her legs would do something of their own accord again if she moved them. Her grip on her _zanpakuto_ was loose in her astonishment, and Byakuya could already see it wheeling through the air when the charging beast crashed into the small _Shinigami_.

And it was that image that made him move. Before he realized it, he'd brought Senbonzakura through the Hollow's entire body, so that its rounded back and the top half of its head came off together like the lifted lid of a teapot, before both halves dissolved into thin air. It didn't even roar, and Byakuya doubted it had known what had happened before it disappeared.

He turned to Karin. "I have reconsidered," he said simply. "I shall resume your training."

Rather than rejoice as he'd half-expected, or obediently follow him to the waiting _Senkaimon _as she'd done fourteen times before, Karin screamed and rushed at Byakuya, sword raised, as if he was simply another Hollow that had appeared.

Senbonzakura met her sword with a harsh metallic ring, and in that moment Byakuya felt it, knowing it now for what it was: Karin's resolve – to make sure her sister was okay. _That_ was what had reminded him of Hisana, what the two women had in common – the _only_ thing they shared. And Byakuya couldn't stop his lips curling up into a grin as the feeling washed over him, because it now had a name, and not the one he'd feared. That was what she was fighting for...

And it was why she was crying.

Byakuya immediately let Senbonzakura drop to his side and grasped the blade of Karin's _zanpakuto_, yanking it out of her hands and stopping the duel dead.

He hadn't thought of how she would react – he hadn't even thought of why he'd decided to end it that way – but when she collapsed to her knees and started to sob, he felt sorely unprepared. He could think of nothing else to do but hand the _zanpakuto_ back to her, assuming she felt ashamed at losing it. But she simply batted it away and continued to cry.

This was becoming more trouble than it was worth.

"The _Senkaimon_ is ready. If you wish to continue your training, stand up and come with me," Byakuya commanded, unceremoniously dropping her sword beside her before standing and turning.

"Why did you help me?" he heard her weak voice issue from behind him. "I didn't need your help," she said, stronger that time. But her voice still shook like it wanted to cry.

"I didn't help you, I simply removed something that was in the way of informing you of my decision," he clarified, because apparently he was required to.

"Whatever," she spat. "I don't want help from someone like _you_."

"I am not asking you to get along with me, I'm only informing you of my willingness to continue with your training. It is up to you to accept or not, I have no stake in it myself," Byakuya explained. He started walking.

He was far enough along that he assumed he'd be returning without her, but then she called to him. "Will you kick me out again?"

He turned at that and meant to call back, but by the time he was facing her, she was already only feet away and panting lightly. "Excuse me?" he said quietly.

"If I do something wrong you can't kick me out again, right? Because _you're_ asking me to come back, so kicking me out is off-limits this time," she explained to him quite sternly.

Byakuya thought to repeat himself: _I am not asking you to come back, only informing you that you may_. Instead, he said, "Understood."

Karin nodded. "Then let's go..._Sensei_."


	28. Chapter 28

Byakuya's guarantee not to dismiss Karin again had started out as insurance, but now it was more like a prison sentence. The man was colder to her than ever before, but never so much as when they duelled with their _zanpakuto_. She could feel that he hated it most of all, and seemed to walk a razor's edge as they did, as if unsure of what to do with himself: his strokes were passive and his parries lazy, like he was going out of his way not to hurt her, but his gaze seemed to work at the opposite, boring into her with an icy intensity that almost stung to behold.

What was worse, she wasn't able to redo the _shunpo_ she'd managed while fighting the Hollow, no matter how much she tried or how harshly he commanded. And every time it failed to happen, she could sense what he felt: that his guarantee to her had left them chained to one another – like he was a man lost at sea, and she the weight around his ankle dragging him down. They both quickly grew to hate their new circumstances, she could tell, but neither would be the one to break first, either. So every day she went home dreading the next day, and thought of nothing else until it came around. What excuse had she even given her dad?

For a couple of weeks it went on like that, with her seeming to float uselessly in a sea of unspoken resentment, unable to swim against the current, to even perform the simplest act of _shunpo_ to maybe soften his glare just a bit.

And it hurt a lot, because ever since he'd dismissed her, all she'd thought about had been him, and what she could have done differently to impress him, to gain his respect, to prove that she could do it.

The "Kurosaki fighting spirit", as her dad called it, was like this scrappy, plucky little animal inside that refused to give up, and kept coming even when the odds were stacked against it, igniting a fire in her stomach that didn't dim even in the face of such a cold presence as Byakuya's. But that resolve also meant that the Kurosaki were hopelessly ill-equipped to handle personal failure, and when they disappointed themselves, the animal inside bit back hard. And it _hurt_.

And each time she disappointed him, and each time she was scathingly told as much, the pain inside of her doubled up, until eventually she just wanted to scream it out. She wanted to scream at him, tell him that he needed to ease up, that she was doing her best, that she didn't understand what was going wrong. She wanted to cry. And by the end of week two of their resumed training sessions, she was almost desperate enough to do it in front of him, hoping against all she knew about him that it would strike some wellspring of human decency inside of him and maybe make him _stop_.

But when the day finally came, she didn't. Instead, her intense hurt seemed only to stoke the fire inside her, turning suddenly to seething anger. And it ate up every insult and condescending look fired at her that day, until finally it was too much to contain and she exploded with it.

The distance between her and Byakuya went from roughly ten feet to nothing in what felt like a single step—

And she slapped him hard across the face. And the _crack_ of it ripping through the air was like the birds singing in the springtime, and his shocked expression far outdid any present she'd ever received on New Year's. And it felt _amazing_...for a moment. Then, everything turned to darkness.

* * *

Byakuya often found that it was helpful to seek council with Senbonzakura on matters he couldn't seem to wrap his head around. Having the perspective of an outside observer, the spirit's clarity usually ensured that he offered sound advice which seemed to penetrate right to the heart of the matter.

Except today. Today he was being completely unreasonable.

Byakuya still couldn't see why Karin had overreacted the way she had.

He sensed in her the same drive that had defined him in his childhood days, training tirelessly at this very estate. He knew well what that drive was capable of. Racing around the grounds with the insufferable Yoruichi would have been impossible without it, but it wasn't, and that meant that it could do the same for her as for him. That was why he pushed her, to try and replicate her use _shunpo_ from before, assuming that drive to succeed would make it happen.

But Senbonzakura begged to differ. Except he was being utterly foolish.

What sane person would make someone hate them on purpose? It was ridiculous.

Byakuya held no illusions about himself, he knew he was disliked by some – Ichigo Kurosaki was a good example. Mutual, too. But that was Kurosaki's own decision, not something Byakuya had worked toward, he knew. That was the crux of it: if he was striving to earn a person's resentment, he'd know it. He'd know it because he'd have a valid reason for doing so, as was his way with everything. And there was no reason to want his pupil to hate him, or to keep her at arm's length. It just wasn't conducive to training.

_I was not being especially cold to her_, he thought at his sword. _There is no reason for me to treat her differently than any other trainee_...

But Senbonzakura's foolishness knew no bounds today.

_Because I was merely being reminded of Hisana_, he responded to his _zanpakuto_, not that the spirit's words deserved it. _I love Hisana, and they are nothing alike_.

Senbonzakura's next words made Byakuya's decision for him: this _Jinzen_ session was over. It would do him no good for his _zanpakuto_ to go planting wild thoughts in his head. He'd had a hard enough time sleeping in the weeks before Karin returned, he didn't need any doubt cast on his sureness now.

But as he looked up from the _zanpakuto_ resting across his lap, he caught site of her sleeping face in Rukia's bed. And he sheathed his sword so that he might ignore it, before it asked another needless question, like why he was sitting there with her instead of leaving her care to a maid, as before. Byakuya didn't need to answer anything like that.

Not that he couldn't, mind, he just didn't need to.

But, if he _had_ to guess, he'd say it was likely because he felt some degree of sympathy for her, as someone trying and failing to protect their sibling. It reminded him of his own predicament during Ichigo Kurosaki's break-in of _Seireitei_.

And that was it. Only sympathy. Because they were too different, she and her. No matter what Senbonzakura rashly assumed, Byakuya loved his wife, he loved what _his wife_ had been like, and nothing else, nothing different. There was a reason he'd only fallen in love once: because Hisana had been perfect, and anything not in line with who she had been was less than that.

As for Karin, Karin was _far_ less, he told himself. She was brash, stubborn, mouthy at times; she was ungraceful, she complained too much, and of course, she'd _slapped him in the face._ Who could love anybody like that? She was too much of a...

_A handful_, Byakuya decided, for he'd been about to use _challenge_ instead.

Karin rustled, pulling Byakuya out of his head. Then her eyes fluttered and she must have spotted him sitting there, because once she'd blinked them wide open a couple of times, she went pink and pulled the blankets up so that they covered her nose. He couldn't tell if it was to protect herself from him or the other way around.

He stood. "I suppose you'll want to eat something," he droned. "You collapsed because your _reiryoku_ could not withstand the training..."

When Karin's eyebrows knitted together as if she were angry, Byakuya continued so as to cut off any chance for her to retort like the child she was.

"However, since I've already given you my word not to end your training again, I suppose the only thing there is to do is to ensure that you don't die on my watch," he explained. "It would look unbecoming," he finished, and turned toward the door. "I trust you remember where the dining hall is."

And with that, he left her.

* * *

Karin just laid there, content to stew cross-armed under her blanket, pulled over and behind her head so that it held taut just above her nose. It was getting warm in there, either from her own body heat or her still-smouldering anger – perhaps a little of both – but she refused to come out. Byakuya could eat dinner alone, for all she cared, and she would just ignore the aches of hunger in her stomach until she had enough energy to stand and go home.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been under there before she heard the door to the bedroom creak. Sure it was Byakuya, she rolled over, making a cocoon of her tent, and drew her knees to her chest.

"Excuse me, Miss," came a familiar voice. Karin rolled herself out of the blankets to find the older woman in the smock from her last visit, smiling at her with all the warmth Byakuya lacked.

Then Karin folded her arms in front of her chest. "You can tell him I'm going home as soon as I can get up, okay?" she pouted.

"I apologize, Miss," came the woman, "but I'm not here as a messenger." She sounded worried.

"Is something the matter?" Karin asked the woman genuinely. There was no reason to ration her anger at Byakuya amongst his workers.

"Actually, I'm concerned about Byakuya-_sama_," she said, casting a sidelong glance at the ajar door. "He needs his strength, but I'm afraid he won't eat."

"Maybe he's not hungry," Karin suggested, trying to sound as if she cared about him for the lady's sake. It was tough.

The woman shook her head solemnly. "Actually, Miss, I was wondering when you were planning on joining him in the dining hall," she said suddenly.

"Didn't you hear?" Karin said a little too harshly, and winced. "I'm going home once I can get up," she finished more softly.

At that, the woman turned to leave, Karin thought, but instead, she shut the door and came to sit on the chair Byakuya had left beside the bed.

"Please, Miss," she said with an imploring look, "if you don't come down, I fear Byakuya-_sama_ will go hungry tonight."

What was she talking about?

"But he can just tell the cooks to start making the food without me, right?" Karin asked, curious.

"It isn't the cooks, Miss, it's Byakuya-_sama_ himself," she said, taking one of Karin's hands up in hers. They were somewhere between rough and soft – the hands of a working woman, but well-tended. "Did you not notice during your last visit, that Byakuya-_sama_ had the courses brought out only after you'd arrived?"

Karin thought about it, because she hadn't before, and realized the woman was right. But...

"But I didn't even know if I was going to be able to make it down there," Karin said, remembering her weakened legs, like boiled noodles.

"Nor did Byakuya-_sama_, I suspect. But it's likely that he simply didn't want to eat alone," said the woman, sounding forlorn. "You see," she continued, "like you, Byakuya-_sama_has a sister, but the young mistress is no longer around, I'm afraid..."

Karin's scalp tightened. "Is she...?"

"Oh no, she's very well. In fact, she's a vice-Captain," the woman corrected, and Karin felt very relieved. She wasn't at all surprised that someone related to Byakuya held such a high rank in the same organization as him. All that family pride, annoying as it was, didn't seem unfounded.

"So what happened?" Karin asked, refraining from adding the _Did she get sick of Byakuya too?_ that finished her thought.

"As I understand, she was seduced and taken away by some kind of ruffian," said the woman, seeming mildly confused as she did.

"Oh, that's...I'm sorry," said Karin, for nothing else came to mind.

The woman shook her head. "I think she's happy...It's Byakuya-_sama_that—" she paused, seeming to collect her thoughts. "He seems rather lonely without her. He was very fond of her, you see."

Though it seemed natural to be fond of your family, somehow it still surprised Karin to hear that Byakuya managed it.

"But he eats just fine when I'm not here, right? This is only the second time I've been in this place," Karin pointed out.

The woman's easy smile returned. "To be honest, I think he enjoys your company," she said.

"That's not true!" came Karin immediately, causing the woman to squint at the volume. "He's a jerk! He hates me!"

"Is that so?" came the woman, surprisingly slyly. "You think someone who hates you would personally carry you up to this room and lay you here?" she asked, and Karin felt herself become very warm, and not just in the face. "Would he sit beside you until you awoke if he hated you? Or sit at the dinner table just to starve himself?"

"I dunno," Karin said quietly, turning away from the woman, "maybe..."

"I think, perhaps, that he feels bad about whatever happened between you two," the woman put forth, causing Karin to scoff before she could stop herself.

"You're wrong about that," she said knowingly.

There was a pensive pause before the woman spoke again. "Byakuya-_sama_ is...not well-versed in apology," she said, allowing herself a bemused grin. "Even if you did join him, I doubt he'd say he was sorry, but..."

"Fine," Karin interrupted. She still didn't believe it, but hearing about it was annoying. "I'll go, but only because I'm _really_ hungry," she admitted. The woman smiled broadly.

"Thank you," she said._  
_


	29. Chapter 29

Byakuya lowered his _zanpakuto_ upon realizing that the _Adjuchas _before him was frozen in place, caught in the air like a fly in amber. This had always been the part of owning a _zanpakuto _that he disliked the most: their ability to stop everything you were doing just so they could have their say. _Entitled interference_, he called it. And though he disliked it on the grounds of it being disruptive and presumptuous of the _zanpakuto_, he hated mostly what it meant: it was the boss calling you into his office to reprimand you.

Senbonzakura's office – Byakuya's Inner World – took the form of an endless grove of _sakura_ trees, neatly arranged in files and ranks, as orderly as pieces on a _shogi_ board. Cutting through the grove was a single narrow pathway of pristine, white, interlocking flagstones which sparkled in the perpetual moonlight like a blanket of freshly fallen snow. The sky above was that of a clear night devoid of stars, the vast expanse interrupted only by the lonely moon, which today was full, though its state changed with his mood.

Byakuya immediately made his way, as he had a hundred times before, to the only tree which stood apart from the sea of light pink, for its blossoms were perfectly white. It stood in place of any other normal tree that might have been there were it not, intermingled, rather than in a spot reserved only for itself; but Byakuya could always find it. And he placed his hand gently on its trunk, which was smooth, and warm like a living person – a tragic irony, as the person responsible for its existence in the grove was gone.

Hisana's tree.

"Surprised to see it standing?" came Senbonzakura's sourceless voice, seeming to echo from behind a hundred trees at once.

"The way you spoke, I assumed..." but Byakuya paused, unable to finish the thought, let alone its sentence.

"You still don't understand, do you?" came the disappointed voice, which Byakuya was already tired of. If he was going to be reprimanded, he'd much rather have it done to his face.

So he pulled his hand away from the tree and began to make his way down the long stone path, at the end of which Senbonzakura would be waiting, he knew. As he did, he felt like the mallet being drawn across a xylophone; and if he was the mallet, then the trees were the bars, and Senbonzakura's voice the music: for it followed in his wake, always keeping pace, every word seeming to emanate from behind the tree directly beside Byakuya, no matter how briskly he strode. It alternated between left and right sporadically, lending to itself a ubiquity that Byakuya found unsettling, but was also used to.

"I suppose you've discerned why I brought you here," came Senbonzakura's voice in his self-righteous tone.

"Clearly, you believe you have something worth it for me to hear," Byakuya answered as he walked, adding, "though I'd disagree" a little quieter. He knew the spirit would hear him regardless.

"That's exactly the point," came the voice frustratedly, so that it seemed to shake the trees it rang out from as he passed them, and their petals quivered. "Why do you think you're having such trouble defeating this Hollow?" he asked.

"I am not the one having trouble," Byakuya corrected. "Your reaction time is slow. It's as simple as that."

Again, the petals shook, like a harsh wind had filtered through them in Byakuya's wake, though they did so now in silence.

"I am not one to be ignored, Byakuya Kuchiki," came Senbonzakura pompously, seeming riled. "You've refused to talk to me for over a month. Did you honestly expect me to fight alongside you with any resolve?"

The question instantly brought an answer to Byakuya's mind, which he refrained from speaking out of habit, but it was no use – Senbonzakura would already know it anyway:

_I expected you to put your pride aside and protect her._

"Ah..." echoed the voice, suddenly smug. "So I was right."

"No such thing," Byakuya snapped back. "She is my pupil, it is my responsibility to ensure her continued existence for the sake of upholding the Commander's decision. Therefore, it is also your responsibility," he explained formally.

"Trying to sound like the man you were six years ago won't change my mind, you know," Senbonzakura pointed out.

_That_ was the whole reason Byakuya had been dragged here, why he'd started shutting out Senbonzakura's opinions. And it was still unreasonable, and it was still utterly wrong.

"I have not changed, no matter what you say to the contrary," Byakuya came back. "I am the same as I have always been. I am still the man I was when I married Hisana."

"_The same as you've always been_?" Senbonzakura parroted in disbelief. "Do you remember when we first met?" he asked.

Of course. Byakuya had still been young, enough so that the spirit had towered head-and-shoulders above him. Back then, Senbonzakura had this annoying and insolent habit of poking Byakuya hard in the forehead whenever he thought the boy did something childish, which was often.

"I do," Byakuya affirmed, as if Senbonzakura didn't already know the memories his mind had found.

"I distinctly remember a mouthy, short-tempered little brat who would let something as simple as a poke to the forehead set him off," said Senbonzakura, much to Byakuya's chagrin. "And that boy was not the man who married Hisana. The difference was night and day."

That, Byakuya had to admit, was true. Under his grandfather's guidance and his own staunch force of will, Byakuya had managed to make a better man of himself than he had been a boy. He knew it was true, because he'd been quite proud of the accomplishment – he'd felt like he'd finally become a Kuchiki his grandfather could be proud of.

"And your point?" Byakuya asked.

"I'm saying that people change," Senbonzakura urged. "Before Ichigo Kurosaki came along, you were quite a dispassionate sort of man. But something changed in you following his intrusion into _Seireitei_. You noticed, didn't you? How, before, you fought to ensure your own sister's execution, only to risk death at the point of Ichimaru's sword a short while later."

"That had nothing to do with Kurosaki," Byakuya stated. He heard a sigh whisper through the trees. He noted that they were becoming more and more sparsely covered in blossoms as he approached Senbonzakura proper, with petals littering the ground beneath. He knew that meant they had been shedding their leaves, which of course meant trouble.

There were no seasons here, just as there was no transition from night to day, and the trees stayed perpetually in bloom, save for when Byakuya was sad, or anguished...or ignored his _zanpakuto_. And Senbonzakura, who seemed to have a bit of gardener in him, hated when his trees were defaced like that more than anything. By the time Senbonzakura finally spoke again, Byakuya was walking in a forest of bare trees, as if in late autumn.

"That is not the point," came Senbonzakura's exasperated tone.

"Then I advise you to reach it before my patience completely runs out," Byakuya called, but not to the trees.

He'd reached Senbonzakura's palace, which was a large, rounded gazebo-like structure made of something sturdy, seemingly alabaster. Under its high-arched roof was a perfectly circular courtyard, in the heart of which was a beautiful, tight arrangement of _sakura_ which never shed despite Byakuya's mood. Housed in the centre of the arrangement, with the interlocking branches of each _sakura_ forming a pink canopy with their blossoms to be his roof, sat Senbonzakura on a perfectly-cut stump, which had never been a tree, but always a place for him to sit.

He was a rather handsome young man, with a face that might have been much like Byakuya's own, had it not such fair skin, or eyes that shone the colour of the surrounding _sakura_, or lacked any eyebrows. His long, white hair would have fallen halfway down his back were its end not folded up to meet its middle, clasped in place just behind his neck by an ornamental hairpiece secured laterally with a gold pin. The effect was to create a loop of hair that hung from the clasp, which if viewed from Senbonzakura's side resembled a teardrop shape.

His clothing also resembled Byakuya's, with of a black _kosode _and _hakama_, but differed in that the uderlying _shitagi_, as well as the sash at his waist, were pink like his eyes. Like Rukia's, Senbonzakura's sleeves came only to his elbows. In place of Byakuya's _haori_, Senbonzakura wore a white _kataginu_ with pink lining and the Kuchiki family crest emblazoned on each breast, making his outfit less the _shihakusho_ of a _Shinigami_ and more the _kamishimo_ of a Tokugawa-era nobleman. In stark contrast to his formality of dress, the spirit was, as always, without footwear of any kind, something Byakuya found uncouth to this day.

Senbonzakura, smirking, stood and strode gracefully over to Byakuya.

"My point is," he continued from before, "that you've become altogether different from the man who married Hisana. You're a more passionate man than before, so it is no surprise that your tastes would change accordingly," he said, all sureness.

"I fail to see why this is so imperative to you, but sadly, you're mistaken. You're talking about Karin, who is nothing like my wife," Byakuya told him. He had to put an end to this.

Then Senbonzakura did something he hadn't in ages: he poked Byakuya hard in the forehead.

"Don't be naive," he said past Byakuya's rising anger. "That's precisely what I'm saying," he continued, and started walking. Reluctantly, Byakuya followed, being led back out of the palace and into the grove. "Perhaps what you _want_ is a brash, mouthy, ungraceful, complaining challenge." He stopped only a short ways from the palace, where the trees were still bare.

"And why would I want such a thing?" Byakuya humoured. "Something so unlike—"

Senbonzakura didn't let him finish. "Unlike Hisana, yes," he agreed, "but very like _you_." When he caught Byakuya's befuddlement, he met it with a smirk before going on. "All those things are what makes Karin a passionate person, much like you are now. Hisana was soft-spoken, polite, very proper, all the things you used to be..."

"I still am," Byakuya defended swiftly. "And are you implying that I am self-obsessed?" he asked incredulously.

"There are two reasons any one person is attracted to any other: either they see something in that person that they admire because the lack it in themselves, or they see things that reminds them of what they admire within themselves," explained the spirit, after which he clasped Byakuya's shoulder. It made him uncomfortable. "I'm merely suggesting that you're the kind of person in the second category."

Byakuya shrugged out of the hold. "And what proof do you have of this?" Byakuya asked. If _he_ had spent all that time fretting about it before, how had Senbonzakura become so sure?

"You're looking at it," said the spirit. And he stepped aside.

Byakuya was faced with yet another bare tree. It was quite a bit smaller and thinner – newer – than the rest, but he didn't—

Wait, where were the petals under it? Each tree which had shed its petals had them collected in a circle at the base of the trunk, but the ground beneath this tree was clean.

Byakuya took a step closer, and then he saw it: this tree wasn't bare at all, its branches were covered with unopened buds, as expected for a new tree. He whipped about to face Senbonzakura, who was grinning like a fool.

"This is your proof?" he asked, severely unimpressed. "This is nothing." It was true, because new trees grew in this place all the time, with every new experience in Byakuya's life.

The long sigh Senbonzakura let out seemed to blow away Byakuya's Inner World, save for the new tree, leaving them standing together in Karakura, in the frozen midst of the _Adjuchas_ attack. Byakuya could look upon his still self, bleeding from the forehead, his sword's empty hilt readied against the Hollow despite it having knocked him on his back. He could also look upon Karin, who looked utterly terrified a little ways behind, where he'd swept her earlier.

He remembered that this was no random attack: it was planned. He wasn't sure he believed the rumours of a new queen of Hueco Mundo, but if they _were_ true, then she was certainly using this _Adjuchas_ in an attempt to remove Karin as a threat. The girl was spilling over with untapped potential, and unlocking more each day. The only reason for an _Adjuchas_ to suddenly enter Karakura like this would be to put an end to that.

Before he knew it, he'd walked over to Karin's motionless form, only realizing after he finally blinked. She looked scared, of course, but something else glinted in her eyes, behind the fear. Something Byakuya couldn't quite place.

And she wasn't watching the Hollow.

She looked so...

Senbonzakura's single chuckle caused Byakuya to wheel around, expecting to find his _zanpakuto_ spirit hitting him with yet another smirk. But Senbonzakura was looking instead at the tree he'd brought with them, standing out-of-place in the middle of the road where the battle was playing out.

A bud had opened up. And it was blooming perfectly white.

Suddenly, they were back amongst the trees. Byakuya cast a sad look back at where he knew Hisana's tree stood...he hoped.

"That's what you don't get," said Senbonzakura, having seemingly read his mind. "Hisana's is still there, it's not going to go anywhere. It will always be there. But it's finished growing, and if you keep neglecting this new one in its favour..." Senbonzakura nodded toward the new tree. Its blossom, which had only just opened, had fallen to the ground below. "Then this one will never have its chance to grow..."

"But...I love my wife..." Byakuya said, barely listening to himself, only staring at the fallen blossom, the sight of which filled him with a deep sadness.

"I know," he heard Senbonzakura reply.

"But I love—" he began, and even before he finished, a second bud broke open and spread out, all in white.

Byakuya suddenly felt Senbonzakura's hand on his shoulder. "I know."

* * *

The Hollow's roar tearing through the night brought Byakuya back in a rush. A storm of pink blades came crashing into its side, but it resisted and stalked forward at only a slowed pace, as if walking against a pretty strong gust of wind. Byakuya heard Karin scramble behind him, then went deaf as something slammed into the side of his head. The silence broke into a high-pitched ringing as he twisted through the air, arms and legs akimbo, before hitting the ground hard enough to empty his lungs.

Without taking time to inhale or even look up from the road, Byakuya thrust his arm out in the direction of Karin's heavy breathing, and from the corner of his eye caught the yellow-orange light of the barrier he'd erected around her. Now he couldn't hear her at all, and though it was only because she was inside the barrier, it still filled him with unease. Filling his lungs so quickly that they burned, he sprang up just in time to see the _Adjuchas_ punch the cube of light, partially shattering it.

Byakuya dashed for Senbonzakura's hilt, which he'd dropped when the beast sent him flying. He rolled over it and came up on his knees with it in his hands, before throwing it in the Hollow's direction. It arced right between the Hollow and the barrier before touching the ground. It then dropped out of sight into the road as if it had fallen in water.

"_Bankai_."

The Hollow leaped backwards, narrowly avoiding the gigantic _katana_ blade which had sprung up between it and the barrier, joined by many others in succession, creating a giant metal fence which kept it from its prey. At the same time, a second row erupted behind it, preventing its total retreat. It looked up and down, left and right, seemingly confused.

Funny, he'd heard they were the smart ones.

The blades all at once evaporated into billions of pink petals, which converged on the Hollow. They buried him like an avalanche before he could even shriek, as the barrier around Karin faded away. It was over.

However, just as Byakuya got to his feet, something burst out of the blade storm, rocketing into the air: it was the Hollow, missing an arm as well as both its legs, but still very much alive. It roared as it descended on Karin like a lightning bolt, arm outstretched, ready for the finishing blow.

Except it wasn't ready, because it had not been the one to deliver it. And as it fell in half a mere foot from its target, Byakuya couldn't help his surprise.

Ichigo Kurosaki, clad in his new _bankai_, stood before him.

"Long time no see, Byakuya," he said.


	30. Chapter 30

In the month or so after Karin's second collapse, Byakuya had become an entirely different person. Well, not_ entirely_.

He still never let a smile through, or encouraged her, but his eyes became gentler, and when she did something right, he told her so. At first Karin had found the turnaround very jarring, but quickly grew to enjoy it. It gave her a warm feeling inside every time he pointed out anything she didn't mess up, or even just when he kept quiet about the things she _did_. He'd started doing that, too. She could tell that he still noticed without saying anything: every trip, every stumble, every fall...

Well, she hoped there was one fall he hadn't noticed.

It had been hard and fast, too fast. She couldn't pinpoint it, because it wasn't something that just happened like that. In fact, it might have started even before his change of attitude, though she didn't see how. He'd been a complete jerk. A flawlessly graceful, painfully handsome, look-how-perfectly-I-do-everything kind of jerk. How could—?

But maybe that was it. She'd already known, even back when she didn't like him very much, that he _looked_ like the kind of guy any girl wanted: he was astoundingly good-looking, and what was more, as she understood it, he was basically a sort of prince. And every girl wants her prince, she admitted, even her. Deep down.

So when his personality started shifting to match his looks, she guessed it happened because she'd been secretly waiting for him, even if the secret had been so well-kept that she herself hadn't known it. And when the wait was over, her heart all but leaped off the edge – for it had been taking its running start the whole while. It had only taken two weeks, tops, for thoughts of him to fill her every waking moment. A mere fourteen days spelled the difference between hating Byakuya and having a major crush on him. And though it was only a crush, that was still pretty embarrassing.

To be fair, the dinners helped. It had at some point become ritual for them to eat together following a tough day of training. _Shinigami_ training really took a lot out of a person, and short of sacking out right in the courtyard, eating was the quickest way to get it all back. It was never made out or meant to be anything special – strictly the replenishing of energy to ensure an even more productive day tomorrow. It was always completely silent save for the occasional instruction Byakuya gave to the staff, and there was no conversing, reviewing, or confessing of any kind.

But a lot was said anyway. Not in words, but in actions. For one, Byakuya never took a single bite for any length of time in which Karin was excused, and waited patiently until she returned, as if afraid he'd finish without her. And she guessed he hadn't wanted her to notice, but sometimes, out the corner of her eye, she'd catch it: his eyes, normally glued to his plate, would flicker up to her for a split second whenever she tried something new. At first, she figured it was just to make sure she wasn't being rude to him and his staff by avoiding certain things, but over time it became clear.

She hadn't thought she'd showed on her face what she liked and disliked so blatantly, however. Still, each new dinner was filled with more and more of the things she enjoyed, with whatever she didn't being weeded out as they were discovered. It was too coincidental – and spot-on – to just be Byakuya's preferences being reflected. He was tailoring the dinners to her taste, little by little, so that to anyone who wasn't looking for that sort of thing, it might slip by unnoticed.

In his own, quiet way, he'd started being quite nice to her. But thankfully, you didn't fall in love with someone just because they were nice...

You did it because they risked their lives protecting you; or at least, that's how it had been with her. For weeks, Karin's shame at the swiftness with which she had fallen for Byakuya had only been balanced by the pride she felt in _not_, at least, being in _love_ with him. Crushes faded away, and having a crush on one's _sensei_ was too cliché to possibly bother her for much longer...

Then the Hollow attacked – stronger, faster, _scarier_ than any she'd ever seen or felt before. It had come right for her while she was returning home from training. She was alone, Byakuya having already left through the _Senkaimon_ after seeing her off, and she felt sure that it would be the end – the thing's aura was so thick it nearly suffocated her even as it bounded closer.

But Byakuya came out of nowhere to put himself between her and the Hollow, and he paid for it when it took a swipe at him. As his head reeled back from the force, which also knocked Karin hard enough in the chest to wind her, she felt something hot hit her face: Byakuya's blood. The image of her red fingertips horrified Karin. It was all her fault, it was all because of her!

...And then it started making sense. It was _all because of her_.

She took a second even in the midst of it all to chide herself for thinking something so selfish...But why else would he let himself get pummelled like that? Their training was done, he had already gone, and as he'd told her before, she was no longer his responsibility once she was in Karakura. So then why...?

Her heart jumped when she'd felt him move her with his arm so that she was securely behind, and he became her shield. She thought it had only surprised her, that she'd just been caught up in her head and been startled. But a little bit later, when Byakuya, laid out on his back and bleeding, raised his _zanpakuto_'s empty hilt seemingly in the face of death, she knew it. In that moment, she knew that she loved this protector of hers.

Could she do that? She was only sixteen, could she really know what love was?

She didn't know the answer, but she knew that love was the only excuse for hugging him like this.

* * *

What had gotten into her? What had possessed her to suddenly rush over to him and hug him like this? He thought maybe she was just shaken, but she didn't seem to be crying, or even saying anything, she just _stayed _there, _clinging_ to him. Why?

And more importantly, why was he just _letting her_?

He looked up from the top of her head: maybe it was to keep that expression on Ichigo Kurosaki's face for as long he could. The boy's jaw was almost to the ground, his eyes bulged, his gaze wild and transfixed on the two of them.

Was it really so shocking to see Byakuya being hugged?

"I'm—" came Karin's muffled voice suddenly, her breath warming a spot on his chest. "I'm glad...you're not hurt..._Sensei_..." she said. Then she looked up at him, her hand following her gaze until her fingers came as lightly as a spring breeze upon his bloody temple. _I'm sorry_, moved her lips, though the accompanying words were too strangled to hear.

A lump forced its way up Byakuya's constricted throat. She was touching his grievously wounded head, so then why was the pain he felt not there? How were her eyes paining his chest so much more than her fingers were his temple? As each tear fell along her cheek, he felt like they were ripping into his chest. The hurt of another had never pained him so much...except...

He wanted to push her away. Not only was this improper and unprofessional, it was also proving to be quite discomforting. But he stayed his hands, fearing that if he were to touch her now, he would not end up letting her go, but instead—

He heard Senbonzakura chuckle in his sheath, apparently satisfied at having gotten to him. But, really, all he had done was prove that the _potential _was there. If he kept Hisana on his mind, maybe he could return to his senses yet. But he couldn't do that with her pressed against him like this. He could feel her—

"K-K-_Karin_!" came Ichigo Kurosaki's cracking voice.

"You know each other?" Byakuya asked, raising a brow. As quickly as it had come, the pressure against him was gone. He exhaled the breath he realized he'd been holding.

Ichigo Kurosaki pointed accusingly. "That's _my _line!" he roared. "She's my—"

The flying side kick Karin delivered to Ichigo Kurosaki's stomach caused the rest of his words to spill out in a wheeze before he fell onto the ground in a heap.

Well, even _if_ he wasn't in love with her yet, she certainly knew the way to get him there.

"Neighbour!" Karin finished for him as she popped up, both her hands plastered over Kurosaki's mouth as he writhed and wriggled.

Perfect.

"Then I trust you can escort her home safely," Byakuya said as he turned, denying Ichigo Kurosaki the chance to object. The _jigokucho_ he'd brought with him suddenly reappeared, as did the _Senkaimon_ a short distance away.

"_Sensei_," he heard Karin call apprehensively. It irked him that he had to will himself not to run to the call.

"I shall see you tomorrow, as always," he told her without looking back.

"_Sensei_, I—thank you!" she called. She sounded relieved, happy. And just like that, the pain in Byakuya's chest was gone, replaced with something warm.

"Until tomorrow," he said, then stepped into the blinding light.

* * *

Over the course of the following week, Byakuya found that keeping Hisana prioritized in his mind was difficult once it turned against him.

Byakuya had never been one to be tempted by beauty, even as a youngster. The sensation of Yoruichi's breasts in his face, for example, inspired only anger each and every time; and until Hisana, he'd never seen any woman much differently than any other person. But love had a way of casting its target in such a light that could make angels of crones, and Hisana had certainly been no crone to begin with. With Byakuya's love came an unfamiliar and rather awkward physical infatuation with the woman, unlike anything he'd felt before. No, love didn't _make_ anyone beautiful, but rather brought their beauty to the fore, as clearly and intensely as the shining sun.

He hadn't noticed that of anyone since Hisana. Even Rukia's striking resemblance was not enough alone to work on him as Hisana's appearance had done through the eyes of love. But then, that day, Senbonzakura had scraped along Karin's _zanpakuto_. He hadn't realized it at the time, but the similarity to his wife at that moment had served to bring her to his attention, which he otherwise kept staunchly away from thoughts of that kind. And then he realized she could look rather...endearing.

Only because of Hisana; because he wasn't seeing the girl, but seeing _through_ her, to his wife. However, Karin's personality was too abrasive, too vibrant to be ignored, and it eventually eclipsed Hisana in his view of her. She eventually stopped reminding Byakuya of his wife – and that was far worse...because he found himself still...endeared to her, in a sense. A student-teacher sense, of course.

She'd somehow found a way, against all odds, to make Byakuya proud of her. Perhaps it was due to him going easier on her following her collapse. Whatever the reason, she quickly accomplished much, she succeeded at tests more often, and she made far fewer mistakes. In all this, Karin earned his pride – though he couldn't recall exactly when. But as he proudly looked upon her, he'd catch himself again finding how endearing she could be.

So when had she gone from _endearing _to _cute_? And then rocketed so far beyond that that it made training with her downright impossible?

Was she...beautiful?

Impossible. Perhaps the stars at night had simply dimmed with time, so that when measured against the glinting of her dark eyes, the night sky seemed lackluster where before it had been majestic. And it was possible that the sight of moonlight playing across water was one he'd seen too often, so that by now it could be outdone simply by the shimmering of her raven hair. And it had clearly been too long since he'd viewed the fireworks of a festival, because the blazing spectacle in his memory seemed less captivating now than the quiet gentleness of her smile.

Or perhaps...

Yes, he guessed that was that. Karin, unfortunately enough, _was_ beautiful. Too young, and too beautiful.

He found he could no longer raise a hand at her, let alone his _zanpakuto_. Instead, he found inspiration in the days of his boyhood – in the game of tag.

"Today, your only task shall be to attempt to place a hand on me," he said, his mind wilfully moving past his compromising wording.

"Yes, _Sensei_..." Karin affirmed, though apprehensively. She seemed quite worried, and that looked very—

He took off, as much to begin the test as to leave behind his rampant thoughts. He gave himself a harsh reprimand as he zigzagged at top speed about the wide courtyard. Then, suddenly, he felt her _reiatsu_ encroaching on his: first approaching, then falling back as he shot ahead, but always returning, and always coming closer than before. It was like the ebbing and flowing of the tide. She was doing surprisingly well, so he turned on his heel to dash off at an extreme angle in another direction.

But before he could take off, their gazes ran into each other's. In that moment, the colour of Karin's face intensified past the point that the running had already brought it, her cheeks flushing as if—

She lost her footing and stumbled.

"_S-Sensei_..." she said the next second, in which Byakuya realized that he'd sped over to catch her, and was still holding her about the stomach, suspending her nose a few inches from the grass below. He nearly drew his hand away, but didn't. Rather, Karin's hand was the one to move, as she brought it up to place upon his chest. As her fingers spread out across it to allow her palm a full connection, chills assaulted Byakuya on the back of the neck.

"Looks like I passed, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"I...laid a hand on you, _Sensei_."

Byakuya eased her up so that she stood before him, her face still very red, but not from running.

"Clearly, that will not be counted," Byakuya told her as coolly as he could manage.

"Then why did you do it?" Karin asked, utterly confused. When Byakuya failed to answer, she added, "I mean, it's not like it would have hurt or anything. It was only grass." She didn't meet his eyes as she spoke.

Byakuya was glad for that. He couldn't come up with a valid answer, except...

"Don't underestimate _shunpo_. You were moving quite fast. Any fall you might have taken at such speed would undoubtedly ruin my courtyard," he lied to the both of them. "Perhaps we should resume tomorrow," he suggested.

Karin looked shocked. "Why?" she asked desperately, "we only just started! I'll be more careful, okay? I promise I won't mess up your courtyard or anything!" she begged. Byakuya thought that, after more than two months of straight day-to-day training, she'd actually welcome a break. So why was she so vehement about staying?

Her eyes were already working to eat away at his resolve like rust on a fence. But he couldn't go on like this, like he was today. He needed time to compose himself. He had to be firm.

But that didn't mean he had to look her in the eye. He turned.

"You need rest. We'll resume tomorrow once your strength and focus have returned," he said. The words were meant for him, but directed at her.

"Yes, _Sensei_," he heard her say resignedly.

* * *

Byakuya thought he'd never summoned a _Senkaimon_ so quickly in his entire life. As they stepped out into the front yard of Kisuke Urahara's shop, as usual, his ears were accosted by a saccharine voice brimming with excitement.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow, Jinta-_kun_!"

A young woman, maybe Karin's age, with short, light brown hair that flipped up slightly at the bottom, waved exuberantly at the storefront, where a red-faced, red-haired boy wasn't paying attention to her, but rather staring at the two of them.

"Ah, Yuzu," Karin said, seeming to recognize the girl. "My sister," she said, answering Byakuya's silent raising of an eyebrow at her.

"She can't see us?"

"No, she's not like me and—" Karin stopped short. "She doesn't see spirits."

"You guys are back already?" came a voice from behind. Byakuya turned to see Ichigo Kurosaki in his human body, striding up to them.

"That's none of your business," Byakuya told him. He assured Karin that he'd return tomorrow and went to leave...

"_Onii-chan_!"

It was the saccharine voice. Karin's _sister's_ voice.

Byakuya pivoted just in time to see the girl, Yuzu, assault Ichigo Kurosaki with an energetic hug.

But...that meant...

Karin's stunned expression confirmed it all. Her face seemed to have pulled itself into a death rigor, and didn't even twitch as she stared with empty eyes at the hugging siblings. _Her _siblings.

"Karin...Kurosaki?" he offered.

After a moment that felt too long, Karin nodded absently.

"I see," Byakuya said, barely keeping a lid on the resentment snaking up his throat.

It had all been a lie, a trick. It was clear to him now that everyone had known from the start – certainly Hirako had, that's why he was so...Everyone knew! And they'd kept it from him! And Karin...

Karin had lied to him.

"_Sensei_, I—"

That was all Byakuya caught before the _Senkaimon _closed behind him.


	31. Chapter 31

Karin's eyes shot open, and she was faced with her bedroom ceiling.

_That dream again_, she thought. The pink mist, all-encompassing, so thick that she couldn't see her hands in front of her, and pressing in around her all the time as if trying to crush her, but failing because, of course, it was only mist. She felt lost in it, like there was something she was looking for as she stumbled dumbly through it. It was as if she would be able to simply reach out and touch whatever it was she needed to find, but she could never tell where her hands were. It was an awful sort of feeling.

And it didn't go away whenever she awoke, not really. It was always there now, the day could only distract from it for a while. She wasn't sure when it had started, but ever since the soccer tournament, she'd had this anxious feeling, like she'd lost something to look forward to, rendering her perpetually bored. She guessed it was because the tournament was over now, and she'd worked so hard toward it in the weeks beforehand that it left a hole in her days. It already felt like it was so long ago, like a dream. She could barely remember playing in it at all.

Yuzu's yelling from downstairs about breakfast forced Karin up, since she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep anyway. She'd much rather have stayed in bed, all day if possible, but the world didn't let you take a break just because you felt like it. So she trudged down the stairs and, reaching the kitchen, afforded her sister a smile. The one she received in return was very sad, and she knew it was because Yuzu had realized that Karin's smile had been faked.

"Morning," Karin said as she sat at the table, quickly adding, "No breakfast for me, thanks" before Yuzu could dish her up.

"Karin-_chan_!" Yuzu whined, brows furrowed, cheeks puffed. "You can't keep skipping breakfast!" she reprimanded, putting her hands on her hips. "You need it to give you energy for the day!"

"I don't have anything to do today, so it's fine if I skip breakfast, isn't it?" Karin asked, turning her nose to the air.

"It's _not_ fine!" Yuzu stamped her foot, but in a slipper, it really didn't make the sound she hoped for. "You should come with me today to Urahara-_san_'s place!" she suggested, a bright smile suddenly overtaking her face as she clapped her hands together.

That was the _last_ thing Karin wanted. For a reason she couldn't quite explain to herself, seeing Yuzu and Jinta together made her hurt now. She'd never had a boyfriend before, though. She hoped she wasn't just jealous enough to cause herself pain over it, but there was no other explanation.

"Thanks, but I think I'll stay home today if that's okay," she replied, letting her tone carry across that, even if it was okay with Yuzu, she was staying.

Yuzu's shoulders slumped and she seemed to give up. "Yeah, okay," she said, not annoyed, but sadly, as she turned back to the breakfast foods she'd prepared. She began loading way too much food for one man onto a plate that she would put in the fridge for their dad, who was out somewhere this morning. Maybe he'd told them where he was going, Karin couldn't remember.

A little while later, Yuzu left for the _Shoten_. Karin wondered why Jinta never came to pick her up instead. He was likely wary of their dad, unaware that he was gone today.

Karin missed the _Shoten_. She hadn't been back at all since the accident that had ended her _Shinigami_ training. Throwing herself into soccer practice helped, but she still missed it, missed Urahara-_san_, missed being a _Shinigami_, no matter how bad she was at it.

Her mind wandered once again to the topic of Urahara-_san_ – did she have a crush on him or something? She asked herself that question almost every day, just trying to uncover the reason for her constant melancholy. She didn't _think_ she liked him that way, but it felt like that was what she was missing: a person, maybe a friend? Someone she liked who'd moved away or something.

Maybe that was all it was, and they'd just been away for so long that Karin had forgotten who she was missing. Maybe something had reminded her of them, something at school, but without a face to put it to, all she could do was wallow in a displaced sense of longing for someone long gone.

Without the energy to trek back up the stairs, Karin just laid on the couch for maybe a long while until she was startled by the slamming of the front door: her dad was home. When his overzealous attitude toward his preserved breakfast became too much, Karin willed herself back upstairs.

Entering her room, Karin again scanned futilely it for any trace of the medal she'd received from the soccer tournament, but it remained as lost to her as it had, it seemed, since the day she'd brought it home. She felt ashamed at having misplaced it so quickly, because nobody had taken any pictures of the game, and her teammates never talked about it, so it was really all she had to remember it. It had come and gone so fast, it looked like everyone just kind of shrugged it off. Maybe it felt faraway to all of them, too.

She flopped onto her bed, but rather than nod off to sleep, she started sobbing. She hugged her pillow to her face to keep her cries from escaping it, and soon it was soggy with her tears. She didn't even know why she was crying, but it felt better than anything else had in the last few weeks, so she kept doing it. Maybe it was because she'd lost her precious memento of the soccer game, or maybe because she'd forgotten the friend she missed. For weeks she'd felt like she'd been going nowhere, like running underwater. Maybe after this, she'd be able to finally pull her head up out of it; to break the surface.

At some point, Karin had wandered back into the mist. She only realized by the time she was already searching for...whatever-it-was. She still couldn't find it but continued to look anyway, at least, until the mist crept away, pulling off into her peripherals to reveal an even more suffocating blackness. She checked, but her hands were still invisible to her.

Then, in the howling dark, she felt something, something big. It was like a tidal wave that she knew was coming but couldn't see, cresting for the longest any wave had done for, and she was just waiting, tensing, for the inevitable moment when it came crashing down upon her.

Then, right before it did, she awoke.

For a brief moment she thought that her worst nightmare had come true, that a Hollow had crept into her bedroom while she slept. But once she scrambled into a sitting position, she found that the vast presence she felt wasn't a malicious one. On the contrary, it felt very sad.

It was coming from the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

Why did he look so sad?

* * *

How had he gotten here?

As Byakuya recalled the course of events that had led him to stand at the foot of Karin's bed, he was rather frightened to find that they seemed so new to him. Like he hadn't been thinking at all.

Confronting Hirako, at least, he recalled vividly. It had taken all his learned Kuchiki uprightness not to yell at the man, but his words had come out searing hot. They'd all known, but Hirako was the one among them who had _lied_ to Byakuya's face. Byakuya had outright _asked_ the man about Karin's siblings, and he—!

Hirako's idiotic grin even took the satisfaction out of confronting him. All he'd done was raise his hands in surrender and spout some tripe about being _sorry_. The result was Byakuya being angrier when he left the barracks of the Fifth than when he'd arrived. So angry, he could scarcely recall what force had put the _Kikanshinki_in his hand, what thought or string of thoughts. He knew only two things: that he'd somehow made up his mind, and that it was better to ask forgiveness than permission. And maybe the Commander deserved a shock himself.

That day, weeks ago, he'd arrived at Ichigo Kurosaki's home rather than the shop where he normally waited for his student to arrive. As planned, he caught her before she had a chance to exit her body and stopped her. She needed to be human for it to work.

It had to work, as much for her as himself. He'd known all along that falling in love with his student was unacceptable, he'd only needed a reason to push her away without hurting her. And they'd all handed him that reason, even Karin herself. Byakuya might have let himself feel betrayed, would it not simply feed his anger. And despite it all, he didn't want to be angry at her. Yes, she too had lied, but he just couldn't—

Not when he knew she felt the same way. Senbonzakura had revealed it the night before, following the revelation of her relationship to Ichigo Kurosaki. Perhaps the _zanpakuto_ had thought it would assuage Byakuya from doing anything rash. Except Byakuya Kuchiki never did anything rash, he did only what was necessary, the best for everyone. _Noblesse oblige_.

This was his obligation now, to end it before it got out of hand. If he'd known from the start, he'd never have let it get as far as it already had. Not only was it impossible, it was an impossibility built on a _lie_. It meant nothing, and so would become nothing. He would walk out of her life forever, leaving himself relieved, her free, and all the rest of them stunned, angry, and played – just as he was. Just as they deserved. It was not revenge, that was for the common. No, this was justice.

With an explosion of pink fog, their time together was swept away. Replaced in her mind.

She was the fortunate one.

Senbonzakura hadn't talked to him since. His silence even put a damper on the Commander's reaction when Byakuya told him, utterly businesslike, that Karin _Kurosaki_ had failed to meet the criteria, and that, for the sake of the _Gotei _13, he'd removed her as a liability. There would be no repeat of Kugo Ginjo, he'd assured, because all her training was erased.

What that truly meant hit him only weeks later, and once it had, sleep became only a fond memory.

Karin still had _reiryoku_, which meant she might still attract Hollows, only now, she had no defence. All the skills she'd learned with which to defeat them had gone along with everything else. It was true she still had memories as far back as her days training with Urahara, but frankly, he'd done a terrible job. Byakuya had left her as a bird with clipped wings, dropped in a forest with no way to climb.

He'd have to cut her _Saketsu _and _Hakusui_ to ensure her total safety.

So now he was here, in her bedroom, Senbonzakura drawn. Just staring.

Again he ordered his arm to raise, and again it disobeyed. The look in her eyes seemed to have drawn out every last drop of resolve he had, leaving him paralyzed.

"Are you a _Shinigami _Captain?" she asked.

Byakuya nearly dropped his sword.

He'd known that she'd not remember him, but being faced with it firsthand was more than he'd prepared for. _Now_ his arms found the will to move, but in completely the wrong way: they wanted to wrap around her, and stay there until they either jogged something – _anything –_ or were pried off.

"I am," he heard his voice respond as if in a tunnel, feeling very far away from himself.

"Is there something wrong?" he heard her ask.

"Do not worry, you've done nothing wrong," his voice echoed reassuringly.

Karin shook her head. "Not me, I mean with you. Are you sad?"

Byakuya's free hand was on his face before he could think, and his fingertips came off dry. Well, at least he wasn't...

"No," he said commandingly, dropping his arm to his side once more. "It's nothing. I have come here to remove your spiritual powers."

"Oh...okay," she said, casting downward a painfully sorrowful glance. That, at least, had been easier than he'd expected. He wondered what had gone through her head to make it so. But it didn't matter. She stood and put some distance between the bed and her, which Byakuya stepped in to fill.

"It will not hurt," he assured her while, with the same words, lying to himself. Karin nodded, shut her eyes tight, and tensed.

Byakuya was glad she'd closed her eyes, so she didn't see his arm quiver as he finally mustered the strength to raise it above his head. Nor did she notice it hitch the first time he attempted to swing it. He took a deep breath...

The door behind Karin burst open, and someone who looked like, but did not feel like, Ichigo Kurosaki rushed in. He was wearing a dark blue, fingerless glove with something printed on the back. Before Karin could turn, he yelled her name and thrust his gloved hand into her back. She fell out of herself clad in a _shihakusho_, knocking into Byakuya and sending them together onto the bed behind him. He managed not to fall all the way back and stayed sitting upright on the edge of the bed, Karin in his arms, her face buried in his chest.

Byakuya was frozen. He knew what this meant: _Kikanshinki _were designed for the human mind, and had no effect on _Shinigami_. It could do nothing about the memories the soul kept. It was only because they were encased in the shell of her human mind, which he'd clouded over, that it had worked at all.

Which meant—

"Byakuya-_sensei_..."

Byakuya couldn't move, couldn't remove his arms. It was all he could do to glower at the soul wearing Ichigo's skin until it scampered away in fear and left them alone.

"Byakuya-_sensei_," she said again, more forcefully, "what happened?"

"I—"

"Did you make me forget?" she cut in, her face still in his chest, which ached inside.

"...I did," he admitted quietly.

Karin began to sob, and the tears that hit Byakuya's chest burned into it like acid. Maybe it was that pain which made him tense, clutching her tighter at the same time.

"You promised," she hissed, her voice thick with unreleased sobs. Byakuya had been about to say something, when suddenly she added, "Why?"

Byakuya was silent for a long while as she continued to groan into his chest.

"I was afraid," he said before he knew it.

Karin let out a single, hollow laugh devoid of humour. "You? Afraid? What a bad joke."

"I am not joking," he said, then got some breaths in him. Then some more, when he realized they hadn't been enough. "It is a frightening thing...to fall in love."

Karin flinched. "I won't apologize," she said suddenly, her tone hard. "Just because I...with you, I...That doesn't give you the right to—"

"I was not talking about you," Byakuya interrupted.

Karin met his eyes with an expression that might have been one of shock, elation, pity, disappointment, or some combination of the four. She pushed away from him, rocking back on her heels as they hit the floor and nearly toppling over at the speed. Her arms fell limp at her sides as her hands balled into shaky fists, and her gaze left his to touch the floor.

"That's a cruel thing to say, _Sensei_..." she said, perhaps angrily, perhaps sadly, but hurt regardless.

Byakuya stood. "True. I have no right to say it, and at this point it makes no difference," he told her in his trademark tone.

Karin stamped her foot, but didn't look up. "You're _lying_!" she exclaimed. "You lied about not kicking me out again, and—" her words were choked off as tears flooded in. "..._You're lying_," she repeated quietly, almost to herself.

"Suit yourself," he forced himself to say. _Your hating me is just as well_, he'd been about to finish, but couldn't find the will. "I shall go."

"What?" came Karin's voice in shock, stopping Byakuya in his tracks. "That's it? I thought you loved me."

"I thought I was _lying_," he came back a little scathingly.

"Were you?" he heard her ask earnestly. "If you were, then just g—"

Byakuya wasn't sure what had caused her to stop short: the clatter of Senbonzakura hitting the floor, or her being pulled back into Byakuya's chest.

"Lying is unbecoming of nobility," he told the top of her head as he held her to him with one arm, the other limp at his side. He expected her to push him away again, but the next moment felt her arms wrap around his stomach.

"I missed you so much," she sobbed. When Byakuya stayed silent, Karin's grip on him tightened painfully. "Hey, aren't you gonna tell me that too?" she asked irritably without looking at him.

"I assumed it was implied," he gave her. He felt her shake her head.

"You gotta say it," she ordered.

Byakuya could tell right then that she was going to be a handful, but...

"I as well," he said.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"I did as you asked," he said sternly, separating them. "Now—"

A rough, calloused hand closed around Byakuya's face, enveloping his word in darkness. He felt air rush past him as he was spirited away, unable to resist the steely grip.

When light came rushing back, Byakuya blinked to see himself standing in the air across from another _Shinigami_. Slightly taller and older-looking than Byakuya, the man had short, black hair which stood on end in abrupt points, an unshaven face, and a tattered Captain's _haori_ fastened about his shoulder. His dark-eyed gaze was like that of a raptor.

"Jeez, you Kuchiki just can't stay away from my kids, huh?" he said, sounding rather bored. "I don't suppose you've got an older sister looking for some company?" he added with a grin.

"You're Karin's father," Byakuya deduced aloud.

"That's right. Isshin Kurosaki," he said, his expression letting Byakuya know that the man's own name was music to his ears. Then the raptor's gaze fell on Byakuya again as the man thrust an arm out to point at him accusingly. "And I'm gonna make sure you don't hurt my little girl!" he said with gusto in place of anger.

"You intend to fight me?"

Isshin seemed stunned at the thought. "Don't be stupid, that just wouldn't be fair," he said, waving Byakuya off.

The man was not lying. And that gave Byakuya pause. The well of his _reiryoku_ seemed to run so deep that Byakuya couldn't feel the bottom. His _reiatsu _was well-contained, but he was letting it saturate everything around them, likely to prove his point.

"And as much as I might want to kick your ass, I think Karin would probably hate me for it," he went on, casting a backward glance at the window of Karin's bedroom, which Karin was leaning out of in suspense. "I'm just here to lay down the rules."

Isshin raised his first finger. "One: Karin's only sixteen, so I don't want anything serious going on until she's older. Got it?"

"Naturally," Byakuya agreed.

Isshin's middle finger joined the first.

"Two: if you _ever_ do _anything _to hurt my daughter again, I get to kill you," he said. The last part sounded too nonchalant for what it was.

"Understood," Byakuya told him anyway. The two men didn't break their gaze for a long while.

When they finally did, it was because Isshin had turned his on his own raised fingers. He looked them over with an odd surprise on his face.

"Huh. I guess that's all I got," he said in mild astonishment. Then the raptor gaze returned with his solemness. "But don't forget it," he growled.

"Of course," Byakuya replied.

Isshin smirked back at Byakuya before strolling over to where his daughter had been watching them. Then he picked her up in one hand by the back of her _shihakusho_, and _threw_ her at Byakuya. She screeched as she rocketed through the air, before slamming into Byakuya, who cradled her in his arms.

"What the hell, Dad?!" she roared at the man, writhing in Byakuya's grip.

Isshin gave Byakuya a thumbs-up coupled with a wink. "Good, you passed the first test!" he shouted as Byakuya remained stunned. "Now go apologize to my daughter properly!" he commanded. Then he vanished, and Byakuya was unable to follow his movement.

That man...

The feeling of Karin's arms looping around his neck pulled Byakuya out of his thoughts. "So, what now?" she asked, as if he should know.

"If you like, you may join me for dinner," Byakuya offered. It seemed natural.

Karin nodded happily, but when Byakuya went to let her down, she clung tighter to his neck. He knew she could walk on air, he'd taught her how. But when he looked down at her face, it was red.

Byakuya lifted a brow. "Do you expect me to carry you there?" he asked. Karin responded by resting her head on his chest.

"No one will see you," she argued. "You can move fast enough, right?"

"That's hardly the issue..." he began, but he stopped when he felt someone poke him in the forehead.

After a moment, he took off, Karin in his arms.

Yes, she was going to be quite a handful, it seemed.


	32. Chapter 32

_A/N: Okay, so it was pointed out to me that my removal and replacement of the ByaKarin chapters caused a problem where new reviews couldn't be posted for the identically-named chapters by those who had written before, which meant that my regulars were left unable to review! So sorry about this oversight. I've reposted the ByaKarin in response, so hopefully that fixes it(?) Sorry for the trouble._

* * *

The ringing of his cell phone brought Ichigo out of what should have been the short bout of staring he'd fallen into, except late afternoon had crept in all around him, where noon had been only a second before. How had the serene blue sky suddenly lit up fiery orange outside his window? When had it found the _time_?

Ichigo pressed the _Call_ button on his phone. "Hello?"

"Kurosaki, dammit! Where the _hell_ are you?!"

It was Ikumi Unagiya, Ichigo's boss at his part-time job, the one he'd used to earn engagement ring money.

"I...was just about to leave," Ichigo sputtered truthfully.

"At _six o'clock_?! I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours! If I knew where that university of yours was, I'd come right over there and kick your sorry ass!"

Of course she would, Ichigo thought. There was a reason he hadn't told her where he was going to school.

Wait—six o'clock? Wasn't it only twelve-thirty?

Either Ichigo's wristwatch was suddenly five-and-a-half hours fast, or he'd just lost as much time without realizing it.

It was a frightening thought, but not more so than the fact that it was the third time it had happened...at least, that he could remember. It had certainly been the longest span of time to pass him by, though, and by a huge margin.

"Kurosaki! Are you listening?!"

_Shit_.

"Yeah, sorry. I—I'm sick today..."

"You idiot!" Ichigo was surprised the speaker in his phone hadn't blown. "Don't do things in reverse! If you were sick, you should have called in before!"

"Right. Sorry," was all Ichigo could think to say. He wasn't one to make up stupid excuses. And he _really_ did suspect that he was sick...in some way. He just didn't know what yet.

Unagiya didn't say anything after that, just grumbled and hung up. Ichigo knew he'd be in it when he returned to work...whenever he did, but right then, other worries took precedence: not only had he lost an entire day's worth of work, with it had gone some of the money he needed for the wedding bands. He hadn't thought about needing to buy them when he'd gotten the engagement ring, which seemed dumb now. And apparently you could buy sets, complete _with_ the engagement ring? Man, he was stupid!

Only when the end of his university career had started to nip at his heels had he even given it a thought. He wouldn't tell Rukia that. All she needed to know was that he'd have wedding rings for them by the time the year was up and the wedding on, even if he didn't know it for sure himself.

But the rings seemed to be the only wild-cards in the scheme of the thing. It was like the moment they'd been brought into their final year as fiancé's, Rukia suddenly became a girl.

Yikes. Ichigo was glad that wasn't something he'd put into words in front of her. But he'd never seen Rukia act like, well, _girls_ did about their weddings, which they seemed to always be planning. He remembered Yuzu telling him about her own future wedding in painful detail when she was probably only six, but never once had he heard Rukia say anything of the kind. Maybe that was why it was all coming to the surface at once, in a rush, like a pot boiling over on the stove.

He guessed it wasn't too bad, she didn't squeal, or speak too fast to hear, or get super-bossy about anything – but he guessed that was helped by not having to compete with another opinion. Ichigo held no preconceptions about what his wedding should be like, so when she said she wanted it Western-style, he said _Okay_; when she said she wanted to wear a wedding gown and instead of a _kimono_, he said _Sure_.

That part seemed unlike her. He suspected she'd done it just to make Uryu's goddamn year, because that guy was riding the high of getting to make her dress like it was his birthday every day. Not that he showed it a lot, but it was all he talked about whenever they met. That and whatever scary lunch Orihime made for him that day.

Still, the thought of Rukia in one of those white gowns...it was kind of...

"Amazing..."

"What's amazing?"

Ichigo started so strongly that he nearly fell off the edge of his bed. Rukia, climbing into his room through the window, was in her _shihakusho_, which meant that the rest of the afternoon just turned into a challenge to not make himself sound like a crazy loner talking to himself in his dorm room.

"R-Rukia?" Ichigo gasped. "It's not even night yet, how—"

"Urahara is testing something, so I volunteered," she explained as she came to sit beside him. They entwined their fingers reflexively, without thinking.

"What is he testing?" Ichigo asked seriously. He didn't want that risk-taker playing it fast and loose with his wife-to-be.

"Remember when you came to rescue me, how you came to Soul Society seven days early due to a time distortion?"

Oh. Was _that_ what had happened?

"Yes."

"Urahara is confident he can replicate that effect. If it works as he plans, I should return on the same day I left, only minutes later," she explained.

"And if it doesn't?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I could conceivably be torn apart by the rush of time," she said, too off-the-cuff. Ichigo's grip on her hand tightened.

"Don't say things like that," he told her irritably. "Are you trying to make me feel guilty that you're here?"

Rukia pulled her fingers gree of Ichigo's vice and slid her hand up his arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "If you feel guilty, you could make it up to me," she suggested foxily.

"No I can't, not here," Ichigo told her, nodding at his door. Rukia's response was to rise and walk over to the door, place her hand on it and spout some long-winded poetry. A shimmer emanated from her palm, rippling across the walls of the room like sunlight on the waves. When she crossed over to the window and pulled it shut, the ripple doubled back to sweep over it as well.

"No, they won't," she said, eyes alight, as she made her way back to his bed. Rather than take up her former place beside him, she mounted his lap and stayed there, supported by his arms, her own slung around his neck.

Ichigo felt hot all over. "Why is there even a spell for that?"

"Is that important?" she asked earnestly.

"...No."

* * *

The funny thing about owning a _zanpakuto_ – something Ichigo had forgotten in his two years without one – was that you didn't really dream until they had something to say. Ichigo woke up every morning and looked back on nothing between shutting his eyes and opening them again, only sleep, in the peaceful dark. So when he found himself suddenly standing across from the old man in his sword without remembering how he'd gotten there, he figured something was wrong.

"_Ossan_," he said to let the man before him know that he had checked in mentally. Zangetsu was standing in a very uncharacteristic way, with his arms folded behind his back like an admiral inspecting troops.

"Ichigo...I suppose it's been too long," said the man sombrely.

Ichigo reflexively scanned the world around him for water, but found none. "What are you talking about? I've come to see you since then," he defended. He hoped the spirit wasn't become jealous and needy because Ichigo spent so much of whatever spare time he had with Rukia.

Oh yeah. He'd fallen asleep after—

"That's not what I'm talking about," the man said, striding up to Ichigo. When they were close enough, he drew his arms out from behind him: the right one was fine, but the left...

Zangetsu's left hand was bone-white, like his arm was dead in the socket, though it still moved fine. The paleness seemed to have soaked onto Zangetsu's sleeve, which was now half white with black layered underneath, and a cuff that was looser around the wrist, like that of a _shihakusho_. It was as if he'd sewn on the sleeve of an entirely different outfit to replace one of his own, but Ichigo knew better.

"The Hollow..." Ichigo heard himself say, and Zangetsu nodded, hiding the infected arm behind him once more.

"He's been quite active recently. I assume you've noticed."

What? What did that—?

Of course! The missing time! Had he been taking over during those times?

"But..." Ichigo said, suddenly hit by the conclusion he'd come to. "But...I was in my living body...can he...?"

Ichigo didn't have the nerve to finish, but didn't need it either. Zangetsu nodded.

_Shit!_

"_Ossan_, what can I—?"

"Calm down, Ichigo!" Zangetsu commanded harshly. He brought his arm out to inspect it a second later, watching as the whiteness on his sleeve crept up to encroach upon his shoulder. "Your fear and doubt only makes it happen more quickly," he told him.

Then Zangetsu clasped Ichigo's shoulder with his still-normal arm. "Ichigo, listen to me, you must..." was all Ichigo heard from the man. His lips still moved through the rest of his statement, but no sound passed through them, not to Ichigo. Then, from far behind, and drawing closer like a strong North wind, came a cold, giddy laughter which rattled Ichigo's skull.

And he was awake. His sweat was cold, his breathing laboured, but at least he was awake. But he felt like he couldn't hold on to it for long, like he'd slip back to sleep at any moment, unless—

Ichigo sat bolt upright, startling the woman who he accidentally flung off of his chest. He thrust an arm out, and her bare back met his open palm before it could reach the blankets below. "Sorry," he said quietly.

Rukia seemed to scan his eyes and the thoughts behind them all at once. "What's the matter?" she asked, all concern.

He pulled her close again, and her warm skin helped to relieve a little of his chill. "Nothing," he lied.

* * *

Ichigo's grip on Rukia changed instantly, becoming so different that she could swear she was in the arms of a stranger. Ichigo's hold was always palm-heavy and light on the fingertips, he favoured surface area, and only let his fingers drape across her skin, as if afraid he'd crack it if he pressed too hard. What she felt now was the complete opposite: it was all fingertips, with the palm altogether absent, raised to stand away from her skin by the fingers which seemed intent on bruising her. She had to wince.

"Ichigo..." she began, but then she caught it. His _reiatsu_ was different: thin and cold, it poured out wild like an icy river streaming through rapids, where normally it seemed to thickly blanket everything, and was distinctly warm, like sunlight beating down. It felt nice, cozy, and above all, safe – but it wasn't any of those things now. On the contrary, it made her feel...tense, on-edge, like her guard needed to be up. Around _Ichigo_?

No. That was _not_ Ichigo's laugh.

Against her instincts, Rukia pushed away from the man who held her to look upon his eyes: all black, save for the gold irises. Not Ichigo's eyes.

And they weren't focused on her, they were watching Ichigo's hand as it was held in front of his face, pumping the fingers open and closed again and again, as if testing that they were in working order.

"Ichigo..." Rukia chanced again in spite of herself.

The hand dropped, as did the cold, piercing gaze of those black eyes on her. "I have no name," came a voice, like Ichigo's in some way, except distorted, warped. It seemed to ripple through his throat. The thing in Ichigo's skin – for it was definitely _not_ Ichigo – bared its teeth at her sinisterly.

Rukia had never before been scared of the face in front of her.

But something scared her more than it could. "Where is Ichigo?" she asked frantically. In response, the thing brought the first finger of Ichigo's left hand to his chest, over his heart.

"Inside for a while," it hissed with pleasure.

Rukia didn't understand, but she knew what it felt like...a little. "Are you...a Hollow?" She remembered that Ichigo had once been able to don a Hollow's mask. Maybe that meant this thing was—

"I am Ichigo's deepest desires," he said without answering the question. Still, Rukia had to let out a breath.

"So, you're a part of Ichigo, right?"

The thing wrinkled Ichigo's nose at the question, seeming disgusted. Then it turned to rise, but Rukia grasped Ichigo's wrist to stop it. It was freezing cold and she almost let go, but stopped herself.

"Wait," she said desperately. "Is Ichigo alright? When will he be back?" she asked. It seemed silly to ask such things as if he was gone on a trip to the convenience store, she could think of nothing else to do.

The thing shook loose of her grip as if her hand had been a cobweb Ichigo's arm had passed through, for it did so in disgust. "Ichigo is no worse off or better off that I am all the time," the thing said with intense bitterness. "As for when he'll come back..." Rukia heard the next words come out past a grin, "I couldn't say..." Then it began to stride toward the door, but again Rukia stopped it, this time with both hands on Ichigo's arm.

"Wait, I s—"

The breath to finish her word left her in a rush when the thing used Ichigo's hand to palm her collarbone hard. It stung as she fell backward until the back of her head hit the mattress hard enough to dizzy her. When she sprang up a second later, she felt an avalanche crash into her back, sending her chin into the floor.

Rukia was caught beneath an icy grip, feeling like a gigantic mousetrap had just been sprung on her, pinning her to the floor. She could just barely look up to see the thing within Ichigo contorting his face to look at her as if she were a garbage bag leaking its contents onto the street.

"Do you _realize_ how much he holds back around you?" the thing spat at her. "Sosuke Aizen was right about ants like you..."

Then, for a moment, she saw it happen, just as her vision began to darken: the things black eyes flickered white. It noticed too, it seemed, because it clutched at Ichigo's face with one hand as if it had been smacked.

"No! Fuck no! Not yet!" it growled. Then it seemed to catch itself in the act – whatever it was – and snapped to face her. But it was too late: just as the steely grip left her, Rukia's world went black.

"...Ichigo..."

Rukia opened her eyes again to find Ichigo's face, white eyes and all, hovering above her, the very picture of worry. Her head throbbed under the ceiling light, which was needed now in the dead of night. She felt Ichigo's warm hand caress the side of her face: a warm palm, fingertips trailing lightly behind. His touch.

"God, I'm sorry, Rukia," Ichigo said, his voice choked in anguish.

Rukia managed a weak smile. "Don't be," she said, "I'm glad you're back."

"Yeah, looks like he pushed out too much energy when he was threatening you," Ichigo said, though he seemed only to muse or assume, unsure.

"You know who that was?"

"Yeah," Ichigo answered, sounding ashamed, "it's my Inner Hollow."

Ah, so Rukia had been right.

"I thought he was gone," Ichigo went on. "He's...never been able to take over my living body before..."

For one of the very few times since Rukia had come to know him, Ichigo sounded genuinely scared.

Rukia hushed him and brought a hand up to caress his cheek. "It's okay, you're back now," she told him reassuringly. It seemed to work. But Rukia couldn't stop her mind from finishing the statement:

_But for how long?_


	33. Chapter 33

"I see," Urahara said darkly, "that _is_ a dilemma." He tapped his chin with his first finger as he stared at nothing in particular.

"Have you heard of anything like it before?" asked Rukia from across the table.

"No, but Ichigo is always doing things I've never heard of before," he answered whimsically. "It's interesting," he added, and Rukia could see the grin he was suppressing.

"It's not interesting, it's dangerous," Rukia shot at him.

"Ichigo's strong, I'm sure he can—"

"Did you do as I asked?" Rukia cut in, her patience long-since exhausted. She'd only come in to get it from him, she shouldn't have allowed herself to be roped into a detailed explanation.

Urahara plunged an arm elbow-deep into his coat and rummaged, sending out far too many _clinks_ and _clanks_ from inside the garment for Rukia not to be concerned. Then from out it he produced a small orb like a pitch black Soul Candy, inscribed with the numbers _16425_ in blood red.

Rukia examined it with a critical eye. "_That's _it?"

"It's everything you asked for, I assure you," Urahara said a little too deviously. "I used the _reiryoku_ that gets syphoned off from Ichigo to keep the gateway open whenever he's in Soul Society. He has so much that he doesn't notice, but he's been there often enough that it's absorbed quite a lot of energy," he said, as if surprised by the amount of power he'd jammed into the tiny ball.

"How does it work?" Rukia asked, plucking the orb from the man's fingertips with her own.

"Feed it to Kon, then press his tummy!" explained Urahara elatedly. Rukia's forehead almost hit the table.

"Are you serious?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"Of course!" Urahara said, as if indignant at her skepticism of the thing's activation. "Put it in Kon when you get back, keep him close, and if it happens again, just give him a squeeze," he explained as if to a four-year-old.

Rukia didn't like the sound of it, because it sounded like something Kon had bribed Urahara to say. She guessed she could just put it in without his own soul inhabiting the plushy, though.

"Fine," said Rukia as she stood. "Thank you."

"There's one more thing, Rukia-_san_," Urahara said, rising to meet her – or surpass her, due to his height advantage. He produced a second small black orb from somewhere behind him, only it had no distinguishing marks of any kind. Then he put it to his lips and blew into it, and it swelled like a balloon filling with air.

_BANG!_

A second later it popped in a puff of white smoke, which quickly dissipated to reveal a limp copy of Rukia hanging in the man's arms, slid under the _gigai_'s own.

It was dressed in Gothic Lolita-style clothing, consisting of a sleeveless black dress with a cross-laced bodice. The skirt had a frilly hem that just barely fell past whatever undergarments it was wearing, and did so rather like an opened umbrella. Its wide circumference meant it didn't touch the legs, which were adorned with black stockings which reached the thigh and were attached to garter belts that rose to disappear under the skirt's hem. Slips not unlike the ones Rukia currently had on her arms could be seen on the_ gigai_, though its were black and extended to cover the hands, while leaving the fingers exposed.

"I made this so you could spend the day outside with—"

Urahara couldn't finish once his mouth suddenly filled up with knuckles. Rukia folded in his goofy grin even before it found the time to leave his face.

"_OW_!"

"You creepy fool!" Rukia screeched. "I can't wear _that_!"

* * *

In the end, Rukia's desire to go on at least two dates with her fiancé before marrying him proved enough for her to accept the _gigai_, though she didn't wear it back to Ichigo's university. She kept it in collapsed form until she arrived, snatched one of his T-shirts from a drawer and rushed into the washroom to inflate, strip, and redress it. Ichigo had to pinch his nostrils closed when Rukia exited wearing only his shirt and the commandeered lingerie of the _gigai_.

Well, that and the black butterfly hair clip. She liked that.

Her petite body rather made a dress of the shirt, so she belted it at her waist and finished the outfit with the only pair of shorts Ichigo owned with a drawstring she could pull and tie so that they didn't slip right off. _Shorts_, however, seemed to be a relative term, because they came past her knees.

Rukia spun in place, her neck craned so she could see her back. "Does it look presentable?" she asked. She'd tried her hardest to make a closely-enough-fitting outfit from her giant fiancé's things, but she thought that maybe cross-dressing would be considered uncouth. Compared to the alternative, though, it was downright conservative.

Ichigo sat in the middle of his bed with his knees drawn to his chest, slack-jawed, red-faced, and at a loss for words.

"Is it not good?" Rukia asked worriedly when she caught his expression.

Ichigo could only shake his head slowly.

"...Are you okay?" Rukia asked him.

Again, a slow shake of the head was all she got in return.

"Are you ready to go?"

Another shake.

"Do you...need some time?"

At last, he remembered how to nod. Slowly.

Before she left, Rukia snatched up Kon's plushy body and shoved the black orb into its mouth before stuffing it into the pocket of Ichigo's shorts. She hoped it was unnecessary.

* * *

It was a very nice date. The only downside was that, having been transformed into _reishi_ objects when passing through Ichigo's personal gateway, nobody could see the ring and necklace she wore with such pride. Nobody except her date, of course.

It began similarly to their first date, their time spent walking and talking, except with more hand-holding. They stopped by a vendor's cart and tried kebabs, sat on a park bench and discussed their impending wedding – well, Rukia discussed, Ichigo agreed – and then, as evening drew in around them, made their way to Karakura's large observation wheel. It was quite an impressive machine and reached high enough to give a bird's eye view of the town, so it was a shame that almost none of their time in it was spent looking out, or even with their eyes open.

After their ride, Rukia could tell that Ichigo was trying to hide his fatigue, which seemed to hit him the moment he stepped off. She steered them back to the university and fell silent for the latter half of the walk there so that he wouldn't have to speak either. Besides, she was more than content just holding his hand and pressing up against his arm.

"Sorry," he said once they were both on his bed, sitting beside each other, his arm around her shoulders. "I don't know what hit me."

"It's alright," Rukia said, and meant it. She was afraid she _did_ know what hit him.

"It's just...I'm really tired," he said quietly, and Rukia watched as his eyelids threatened to close on him and his head bobbed.

Rukia slid her hand into her pocket to touch the plushy inside. "If you keep yourself awake, you'll get a headache," Rukia said. Inside, her concern for Ichigo's health was duelling her fear of his Inner Hollow's resurgence, and right now, the wrong side was winning. "You should sleep."

She felt Ichigo's head on her shoulder a moment later. He hadn't even said a word. He half-turned in to her to drape his arm across her chest, slipping into a more comfortable position lower on the mattress, letting his weight pull her down with him. And he probably didn't even know he was doing it.

One thing Rukia had been surprised to learn about the stoic Ichigo when they'd begun their foray into intimacy was that he was quite the clingy sleeper – the man liked to cuddle. It was as if his subconscious mind resented his resentment of closeness in the waking world, and was having none of that nonsense when _it_ started running things.

But the way he'd flopped onto her left her with two choices: turn in to him and suffocate, or angle to the side and let him spoon her from behind. The second option sounded good, except for the discomfort she felt laying on her right side, as Kon's plushy body pressed against her thigh and hip.

Although, Ichigo did seem fine. He was sleeping peacefully already, and nothing had happened. So, she guessed, she could afford to remove the plushy and enjoy laying with him. She tossed the little lion on the floor beside the bed, where it landed facing up.

* * *

Rukia had just about nodded off some time later, when she was suddenly shocked awake by a rush of cold water at her back – the Hollow's aura. Immediately she pushed out of what had been Ichigo's arms and hit the floor with her foot landing squarely on the stomach of the lion plushy. As soon as she did, beams of crimson light erupted from its mouth, nose, and the ends of its fore and hind paws.

The four paw projections pulled away from the plushy to stretch along the floor like red snakes escaping in all directions, forming an "X". Simultaneously, the skyward beams shot from the eyes crossed, then fell away from one another in in opposite directions. When they too met the floor, they together formed a single red, horizontal line which bisected the "X" to form a six-pointed star, spread across the floor wall-to-wall like a massive red spiderweb.

The solitary red pillar jutting up from the mouth stayed put, but spilled out in all directions from the top like a geyser succumbing to gravity. Its red mist showered outward overhead, reaching and not surpassing the perimeter traced by the star on the floor, sealing them in a softly-glowing red dome as red met red. Then the central pillar vanished.

Rukia wheeled around to see the black-eyed Ichigo glowering back at her. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

Rukia filled her chest with air, though it was unaccompanied by courage. "A barrier to keep you from leaving this room," she told it. There was no telling what the thing would do or who it would hurt if it was allowed outside, or how much worse that scenario would become if it did so in Ichigo's spiritual body. Therefore, she'd left his Deputy Badge with Urahara when she'd visited the man that day, and now that the shield was in place, the outside world was safe.

Which was more than she could say for herself.

The Hollow merely scoffed and hopped off the bed, taking time to shove her harshly aside when it could just as easily have walked by her, or even just gotten off the other side of the bed. It confidently strode up to the wall of the dome, looking surprised when it ran into it with a solid _thud_. Then it shouldered the wall to no avail, twice, before resorting to using Ichigo's hands to press out against it, as if hoping to topple it all over.

When that didn't work, it rounded on Rukia and fixed her with a glare. "What the hell is this?!" it shouted.

Rukia had to swallow hard before she could speak. "This barrier is made from Ichigo's _reiryoku_," Rukia explained.

The Hollow spat a laugh at her face. "If it's made of Ichigo's power, then of course I'll be able to break it," he said, his confidence returning.

"Perhaps you could if the two of you worked together," Rukia suggested, "but as you are now, I doubt you have the power to do so by yourself." She'd surmised that since the Hollow had drained itself before by flaunting its _reiatsu_ that it couldn't run the gamut of Ichigo's power, as if Ichigo was holding some back from it on the inside. And maybe he _was_.

When the Hollow roared in anger and impotently slammed Ichigo's fist hard into the wall, Rukia knew she'd guessed correctly. But her relief was short-lived and was pressed out of her like blood from an open wound that was being squeezed. Her whole body felt like such a wound, constricting to send waves of pain pouring out, as a pressured sponge surrenders water. The thick, crushing cold stifled her screams of agony as Ichigo's Hollow continued to send _reiatsu_ out to pulverize her.

Gasping in pain allowed her to just barely take in enough air to choke out, "Do you – really wish to – waste it again?"

One terrifyingly long second later, the force dissipated, Rukia coughing in a spastic fit on the air she gulped down right after. Fortunately for Rukia, her intuition seemed in top form tonight: the Hollow seemed to want desperately to hold control over Ichigo's body for as long as possible, so of course it wouldn't risk cutting that short by throwing its power out in anger.

The Hollow stood there very still, like a stone monument to anger, Ichigo's hands balled into tight fists and pressed to his sides, his head hung.

"There is nothing you can do," Rukia said, in the same soothing way you'd talk a child down from a tantrum. She knew it deserved far less, but couldn't help it. It was still a piece of Ichigo, after all. "Stop this and let Ichigo return," she ordered.

"Shut up!" the Hollow yelled back, not half as defeated as she'd assumed. "As if I'm gonna just roll over when you ask me to," it growled as it raised Ichigo's head to face her once more. "I'm gonna stick around for as long as I can." It smirked. "I was just flexing my muscles anyway. I wanna see how long I can hold Ichigo down."

"But why do you want to do that?" Rukia asked, suddenly fearful.

"None of your damn business," it spat. It again needlessly pushed her out of the way to sit upon the bed in a huff.

She turned to face it. "Listen," Rukia said, trying to remain calm as she approached it, "you're a part of Ichigo, I'm sure he'd listen if you talked to him. Maybe I can—"

The end of Rukia's tongue burned as an ice-cold finger and thumb clamped down on it, tugging it slightly.

Oh God, he was _fast_.

"Listen here, _you_," he hissed as he squeezed the tip of her tongue, perhaps trying to make his finger and thumb meet by piercing it. "I'm not Ichigo. We're opposites. I don't like you – in fact, I despise you. I don't want to talk. And I'll rip this right out of your noisy mouth if you don't shut up." The Hollow had said it all at speaking volume as if to lecture her, but it hit harder than if it'd yelled it. She wished it'd just yelled it. Yelled like its smouldering black eyes said he'd wanted to. They burned into her with a fury Ichigo had never managed with them, and it looked about ready to follow through on its word.

Then it released her tongue, giving both her, then its own hand, a portion of its disgust in the form of a glare. It seemed almost to resent itself for coming away empty-handed.

Could it be...

"Ichigo," Rukia finished aloud. Then she waited for her tongue to moisten again before continuing. "He doesn't want you hurting me, right?"

Rukia didn't even blink as the Hollow wound back Ichigo's arm for a mighty slap. As the stiff hand arced through the air as if in slow-motion, she was back on Sokyoku Hill, with the phoenix bearing down on her. But it was okay, because Ichigo was going to stop it. She knew, she'd lived this before.

The small rush of air caused Rukia's hair to tickle at her ear, but nothing more. Ichigo's hijacked hand had stopped so short a distance from Rukia's cheek that a falling eyelash would get caught in the intervening space.

So far, Rukia was three-for-three, and that meant the Hollow had no choice to wait it out helplessly. It could not escape or stifle her with its power, nor could it harm her. Everything it had gained in its takeover was now lost to it, which meant, with any luck, that it would soon give up and return her fiancé to her.

Not just yet, though, apparently. It withdrew its hand and let itself fall back to lay across the middle of the bed. Now secure in its inability to harm her, Rukia rather boldly came to sit beside it. And when the silence between them grew too tense, she had to break it or risk being driven deaf by it.

"What is it you plan to accomplish just laying there?" she asked, hoping to goad it into abandoning its fool's errand. "What is it you want?" she pressed when it remained silent.

"What every Hollow wants," it said hotly, "to fill the emptiness."

Rukia guessed that made sense on some level, though she'd never really thought of him as being in the same class as a run-of-the-mill Hollow like the ones she exterminated. "But you have a heart, don't you?"

It scoffed. "You're still misunderstanding," it said teasingly. "You were wrong when you called me a _part of Ichigo_. I'm not. I'm a _missing part_." It paused a while as if to see if Rukia would interrupt. "I'm the hole in _his _heart...I'm really not anything at all." At that, it sounded almost...sad, if that were even possible.

"You said you hate me," Rukia pointed out, resisting the urge to ask what about her it hated. "That means you have your own opinions, because Ichigo certainly doesn't hate me."

Rukia didn't know why she was doing this. It was almost like comforting it. Maybe she thought that if she could bring it to find peace in its circumstances, then perhaps it would stop railing against them. And if it found peace, so too would its host.

Or else she'd just annoy it into leaving. Either way.

"What would you do if this was all a lie?" it asked suddenly, pulling Rukia back to the conversation. It felt odd that it had become a conversation. "What if you knew everything you felt was an illusion? If Aizen wanted you to fall for Ichigo and you found out that he used his power to make it happen, would that be fine?"

What was it talking about?

Rukia answered against her better judgement. "But that doesn't matter, because it _is_real."

"Don't ignore my question," it ordered impatiently. "I asked if it would be fine if you found out."

"...No, of course not," she said, still utterly lost.

"What would you do, then?" it asked, almost tauntingly. "Would you be okay playing along with an illusion once you knew?"

"...I wouldn't," she told it at last.

"But you're happy now, right? So if a lie makes you happy—"

"Then it's still a lie," Rukia interrupted. "I...think I'd want to see...to find out..."

"Exactly," it said. Rukia fixed it with a befuddled look. "You said that because I hate you, that makes me more than nothing, but you're _wrong_. I hate you because Ichigo loves you. I love to fight because Ichigo doesn't—"

"Ichigo's a great fighter," Rukia defended.

"Being good at something and enjoying it aren't the same thing, don't be stupid," it told her. "Ichigo only fights to protect his friends, but I don't give a damn about any of them. We're opposites. Everything I feel, every opinion I have, is because Ichigo had the opposite opinion _first_. I'm just a reflection in the mirror who knows what he is. Everything about me is an illusion."

Then it clicked. "Wait, but I said—"

"Don't try to back out of it now. You were right. You'd want to find out if you could have your own feelings by yourself, right?" it asked. It didn't wait for an answer. "I'm the same. I'm only half of what I could be, I'm not complete. But if I take what Ichigo has, then _I'm _the one making the decisions and having the opinions first. If I make his life mine, then I become _something_."

What a sad existence this thing led, Rukia thought. She could almost, _almost_, sympathize with it. After all, she'd been unseated in her Division for so long because of her brother, and that left her feeling undefined and lost, knowing that her position was only due to him and nothing else. She'd wanted so desperately to find out if she deserved better or worse – to make something of herself under her own power, be it good or bad, for anything was better than not knowing. And when she finally got the chance, she'd become a vice-Captain. _Her_ goals had been reached, but this thing's...

Rukia got up and left the room. Urahara had designed it to keep Ichigo's _reiatsu_ from escaping, but not anyone else's. She bet the Hollow felt awfully sour at seeing her exit the dome so easily. He might be furious when she returned—

It. _It_ might be furious.

But by the time she did, it was simply sitting on the edge of the bed quietly, though it shot a glare at her when she entered the dome carrying a lidded porcelain bowl. Its dark eyes fell upon it and it wrinkled its forehead in confusion.

"What's that?" it asked, already disgusted. It had good instincts, then.

"_Miso _and curry with hot sauce," she told it, hiding her own disgust quite poorly. She handed it the bowl, which it took after a moment of eyeing it intensely, as if suspecting it was actually a bomb.

"You're telling me to _eat_ it?" it asked, its tone confrontational.

Rukia shook her head. "I'm not telling you to do anything, but I know Ichigo hasn't tried curried _miso_, so he doesn't like it or dislike it."

It took a second, but then the Hollow seemed to understand: what Rukia had handed it wasn't a bowl of Orihime's horrendous near-poison which Uryu had quite gladly given up – she'd given it its first taste of independence.

And independence was going to taste God-awful.

It brought the rim of the bowl to Ichigo's lips and tipped the heinous contents inside, the unholy mixture pouring down its throat as she heard him take the first loud gulp. Then it dropped the bowl to reveal a puzzled expression, only to return to it a moment later.

Rukia almost gagged. "You don't have to finish it," she warned.

When the Hollow lowered the empty bowl onto its lap a little bit later, it came back at her with, "But I liked it." Then, so quietly that Rukia might have missed what it said had she not read its lips, it repeated, "_I _liked it..." into the empty bowl.

Rukia took her chance. "Then, could you let Ichigo out?"

The Hollow raised an eyebrow at that before setting the bowl aside and grinning maliciously. "Not just yet," it teased. "I can feel him starting to fight back, but there's one more thing I want before I let go."

"What?"

"Kiss me," he said.

Or, that's what Rukia _thought_.

"Excuse me?" she asked, sure she'd misheard.

"I told you already, didn't I? I plan to make Ichigo's life my own. I may not like you, but he does, and I wanna sit on his throne for once. So kiss me. I want him to see what the future has in store for him," he sang vindictively.

"No," Rukia said flat-out.

The thing shrugged. "Suit yourself, but I won't leave until I get what I want."

"You said yourself that Ichigo's fighting you right now. I only have to wait until he succeeds," Rukia said faithfully.

"I guess that's true," it said with a snicker, "but you're forgetting something. Ichigo's stopping me from hurting you, but I can still cause his body pain if I like."

As the Hollow bared its teeth, Rukia's blood ran cold. "What...?"

"Shut up, I'm not saying it again," it waved her off. Then it clutched at the front of Ichigo's neck. "Do you think you could stop me before I clawed his throat out?" it taunted.

It already knew what Rukia was thinking. Even without Ichigo's full power, it was still amazingly strong. Half of infinity was still a lot. The only reason the barrier worked at all was due to it being made from the same thing the Hollow would use to break it. That meant that if she bound its arms with _kido_, it might still break free before Ichigo resurfaced. And its hand was already in position, and her still-aching tongue reminded her of its swiftness.

"You won't do that," Rukia told it. "If Ichigo dies, your chance at his life goes with him."

"Ichigo already died once," it said simply. "He came back from having a goddamn hole blown in him, because of _me_. If anything, hurting him might help me take control...if not, I'm sure you'll find a way to save him. But what I wanna know is, are you okay with him getting hurt this bad?"

...No...she wasn't.

Hot tears warped the shape of Ichigo as they filled her eyes. "Just one?" she asked weakly. She couldn't believe she was, but what choice had she _now_?

The Hollow answered by jerking its head while keeping its hold tight on Ichigo's throat, directing her toward him. She obliged, her chest tightening with each small step, until they were almost nose-to-nose.

Rukia gasped when she felt the thing's other cold, corpse-like hand wrap around the back of her head and neck. She had to force herself to swallow the words _Please don't make me do this_.

She only hoped Ichigo would understand.

She brought her puckered lips to meet his in a quick peck, like a young schoolgirl's nervous first kiss, diving in and pulling away in a blink. She opened her eyes to see his confusion mixing with disappointment.

"That's not what you give the King," said the Hollow, sounding indignant, almost...jealous. Then he simply sat there, hand on his throat, waiting...until finally Rukia drew back in close.

The tears she'd managed to hold in before burned down her face as the Hollow smashed its lips into hers. Its style was sloppy and rough, but still hinted at Ichigo's experience, as if it had learned to kiss by watching him, and had a working, if tenuous, grasp at the concept. It teased her lips with its lashing tongue to entice them open, but she refused. But eventually she had to breathe, and the small amount of crying she'd already done made her throat itch.

The Hollow pulled away just enough so she could take in air, but slammed back into her mouth before she could close it all the way. Their tongues didn't entangle so much as fight, and every time she tried to pull away, he came back with renewed intensity, prolonging the kiss.

But there was no love in it, no romance. Ichigo's kisses said _I love you_, but this...the Hollow's kiss was hot with anger rather than passion, anger not directed at her, but at Ichigo. She could hear the message behind it almost as clearly as if it had been spoken:

_I can take what's yours._

Then its hand dropped from behind her, and she pushed its chest to separate them, nearly falling off the bed before she was caught...

By a warm hand.

Rukia opened her misty eyes to meet Ichigo's beautiful brown ones as he smiled sadly at her. She wanted so badly to fall into his chest, but she wouldn't let herself. She'd betrayed him, kissed another man – for what else could something so different from him _be_? It didn't matter that it had come from inside him and looked like him, it was—

Ichigo didn't let her fall into his chest either – because he pulled her in himself. As she sobbed into it, she couldn't find the resolve to return his one-armed hug, letting her arms hang uselessly at her sides.

"Ichi—"

"I know," he said. "It's not your fault. Thanks for worrying about me."

Then the resolve found _her_, and she squeezed him so tightly that she thought she might just force the Hollow out herself. "What are we going to do?" she asked through the tears.

Ichigo let his other arm join the first in enveloping her.

"I don't know," he said.


	34. Chapter 34

_A/N: Language Advisory_

_Sorry to anyone offended by harsh language, if there is anyone. For the sake of verisimilitude, Ichigo's Inner Hollow has a rather dirty mouth. Fair warning._

* * *

As their first solid month apart in recent memory drew to a close, Ichigo couldn't help wishing he'd simply slept through more of it...or any of it. It had been agonizingly slow, and having to be conscious through even the nighttime hours didn't help matters. But one of the worst things about being in love was that when you weren't with the person you loved, especially for an extended period of time, little things became hard to do. It was like you lost an arm – sure, you could get along without it, but nobody _wanted _to, and not having it made everything a challenge.

Sleeping was one of those things, then, when morning finally rolled around, so was getting out of bed. Ichigo couldn't help but hate his dependency...but even more, he hated his still-growing affection for her, and what it was doing to him.

He loved Rukia so much it kind of made him feel stupid. He'd even told her as much on her last visit, the only one she made since she'd gotten back to Soul Society to find that Urahara's time-twisting had, thankfully, worked.

That time, she'd been the bearer of some numbing news that seemed almost to hollow him out: Byakuya was dating his sister.

Well, she used the word _courting_, but that was the same thing, right? He could tell it was, because both words suddenly sounded like they were used to describe what it felt like to have paper cuts on the corners of your mouth, or a fishhook snagged under your lower eyelid: shudder-inducing, painful, and gross.

Nobody should have news like that for him, but if anyone did, he was glad it was Rukia. She was the only person who could have told him without getting socked in the face. Instead, he lashed out with his mouth, and that's when it had happened:

"I bet he's doing this to get even with me for taking you away," he'd said frantically. The silence that followed hurt his ears until Rukia broke it.

"That's a cruel thing to say," she said too seriously, like a knife between his ribs. He still missed the days when he could ignore things she said.

She'd mounted him – for he'd fallen over onto his bed – and hovered above him, held aloft by her arms as she spoke earnestly. "What would you do if _Nii-sama_ said the same thing about you? You've never liked him from your first encounter. He could say you were getting back at him using me."

That's when he'd pulled her close and said it: that he loved her so much he felt stupid for feeling so strongly about _anything_. That he was angry with Byakuya all over again just for something she'd made her brother say _hypothetically_, and that he knew that was pathetic. As he told her those things, he realized how far he'd gone loving her: almost too far, as far as anyone was ever going to go...

Or so he'd thought.

Every night, when sleep _finally_ came, he dreamed of nothing; yet every morning, he awoke feeling more in love with her than when he'd fallen asleep. He couldn't remember what exactly she'd done to make him fall for her almost...all over again. It seemed like it had when he'd first felt it growing inside him years ago, but now it was happening when he was already deep in the throes of it. It was as if something inside him kept on mining deeper and deeper into the love he already felt, and had just struck a new wellspring of it. But that wasn't the worst part. Feeling pathetic and desperate wasn't the worst part. Hoping he wasn't starting to love her more than she could love him back _wasn't_ the worst part.

The worst part was how it scared him.

He was scared of loving his fiancé. And he didn't know why.

Love was supposed to make you feel warm inside, but whenever he woke up loving her anew, a cold something coiled in his stomach, like a snake coming to rest inside. But there was no reason for him to be afraid now, as he had when he'd first felt it. She'd said she loved him back, she'd made a man out of him of her own volition – hell, she'd agreed to be his _wife_, for God's sake. It didn't really matter what she'd done to make it happen, the fact that he couldn't put his finger on it meant nothing, and it _definitely_ shouldn't be scary. No, he—

Wait. He _couldn't remember_ what she'd done? Why would that be? She was all he focused on when she _wasn't_ around, let alone when they were together. When they were, he took in everything she did like a drink of cold water in the middle of a desert. Every breath, every blush, every smile – he noticed everything about her, because he loved it all. So why would he not remember? He knew the answer even as he posed it to himself.

He knew his Inner Hollow didn't care for Rukia, but had something happened between them to make him hate her enough to want to sabotage Ichigo's love with fear? Was he trying to scare Ichigo on purpose, hoping that he'd leave her?

The last thing he remembered happening between his Inner Hollow and his fiancé was the kiss, but that hadn't been their last encounter, had it? His Inner Hollow had been steadily growing stronger, to the point where he could render Ichigo totally unaware of the goings-on of his own possessed body. Well, if that monster had done something to Rukia that he was now punishing Ichigo for...he was going to regret it.

It was frightening these days how close Ichigo's Inner Hollow seemed to be, as if only a breath away from taking control at any moment. But that also made contacting him much easier. With Zangetsu, Ichigo either had to use _Jinzen_ or wait until the spirit had something to say. But he only needed to relax and fall into the darkness of his own mind before he was face-to-face with his bone-white, black-eyed reflection in a landscape of toppled buildings at sunset.

His Inner Hollow grinned meanly. "Welcome back, King—"

"Shut up," Ichigo snapped scathingly just as the last word finished. "I want to know what happened between you and Rukia the last time she was here."

* * *

Ichigo's Inner Hollow had tried for weeks to keep his last encounter with _that woman_ far from his mind – the King was a bastard for drudging it up. He hoped the man wouldn't notice as he let himself finally slip into the memory...

xxx

He'd come out as if through a dark tunnel to see her naked and hovering over him. She instantly paled, and he knew she'd noticed the white's of her lover's eyes shift to black. She rolled away and he mirrored her, bringing them face-to-face once more, except with their positions reversed.

Crossing her legs under the sheets she'd twirled herself up in, she shouted, "No!" as if to deter a disobedient _dog_. God, he hated her so much, the pompous bitch. How _dare_she order him around like some pet?

"You really think that's gonna stop me?" he teased, drawing in closer to her face. The smell of lavender made him queasy, but it was worth it to see the fear cross her face. Still, he was unsure if his need to usurp Ichigo and exert his right to claim everything the fool had could counterbalance the discomfort of just being so close to her...if they were actually skin-on-skin...

He suppressed a shudder as she actually seemed to...relax? underneath him, her shoulders falling away from her neck to their usual positions in an infuriatingly presumptuous fashion. Did she think he was no threat? Did the overconfident little whore _really_ assume he was bluffing?

It was becoming easier and easier to overcome his discomfort as, with every passing second, his rage swelled to take its place within him.

"I don't think you can do it," he heard her say past the pounding of his quickening heartbeat in his ears.

He took her wrists up in both his hands and squeezed so he could watch her wince – and it did more to excite him than the lackluster sight of her scrawny nude form had been able to manage. "Is that so?" he hissed, not hiding his anger.

"Yes," she said, and right then he almost broke her wrists in his hands, but she went on before he could. "Because you asked me to kiss you before," she said.

It was only out of pure confusion that he lost sight of his plan to cripple her. "What?" He knew he shouldn't be asking – that it didn't matter – but if she thought she had the drop on him here, _underneath_ him and with the fate of her continued motor function literally in his hands, he wanted to know damn well _why._

"I can't move right now," she admitted, though not with the defeat he'd wanted to hear in her voice. "I can't because you're much stronger than me. You're also very quick. You could have easily taken a kiss from me last time, but you didn't, you _asked_ for it."

Damn, she'd seen it in him – his weakness. And when faced with one's own disappointing reflection, there were two options: walk away, or punch the fucking mirror...

"I don't believe you'll take anything from me – because you don't want to take it, right? You said you wanted Ichigo's life to be yours, but Ichigo doesn't force anything from me. You don't want to take it because you want it _given_ to you."

God, how he wanted to punch the mirror and shut it up.

"But I won't give you anything. So I suggest you get off of me," she ordered. _Ordered_.

_Punch the goddamned mirror!_

He didn't. He chose to walk away instead, or, in this case, roll. He kept his back to her even as he heard the barrier-thing encase the two of them. He felt her get off the bed and heard her redress, and each rustle of clothing might as well have been a goddamned victory anthem.

"I don't suppose you'll leave now," she said. He shook his head. Even if he couldn't take her or hurt her, he could still punish her smugness by denying her a good time.

"I'm sticking around, so close your legs," he spat. Then he felt her hit him in the back of the head. He sprang up, spun around, and took her little neck in his hand so fast that he barely remembered doing it. Unfortunately, Ichigo's presence still kept him from doing more than simply holding her neck. Even if he couldn't see or hear what was happening anymore, he'd left his mark all the same. The bastard.

She looked indignant, feisty as ever despite still being powerless. He hated that. "That's not why I want him back, fool," she reprimanded.

"You don't think I can hear you when I'm in here?" he asked harshly, jabbing himself in the chest over Ichigo's heart. "You guys are at it all the damn time."

She went rosy and looked aside. "I apologize if our love _disturbs _you," she said sarcastically. It was like she _wanted_ her neck snapped.

"Maybe it wouldn't if you didn't scream so damn much," he hissed. This time she answered with a punch to his gut. He responded by letting her drop so that she fell off the edge of the bed. Though he couldn't hurt her himself, he could do this much. The dull _thud_ of her hitting the floor in a heap was like beautiful music.

She sprang up and put her hands on her thin little hips, looking sour. "That _hurt_, you idiot!"

"Good," he said simply, slumping back down and rolling over to face away from her.

_Thin little hips...barely hips at all..._

"And you're wrong, by the way," he said, "I didn't stop because you were right, I stopped because you're not very good-looking," he let her know.

"What did you say?" he heard her ask, all touchy.

"Believe me, I did my best. But I just can't see what Ichigo sees in a scrawny little thing like you. All I get is how weak and pathetic you are," he told her. It was the truth. Something Ichigo just didn't want to admit. He saved her a helluva lot, it had to get really inconvenient. He bet Ichigo wished she could take care of herself more often. He'd probably just done the sap a favour by letting her know.

He heard her huff, but also felt the mattress depress slightly as she laid down beside him, their backs just barely touching. He arched his away in disgust.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm tired. If you're not going to leave any time soon, I have nothing better to do than lay here and wait," she said, almost fiercely. "And don't push me off the bed."

Oh, how he wished he could.

* * *

Time flew when you were having fun, and despite being so close to _her_, the sheer joy of keeping Ichigo suppressed was enough to make him unsure of how long he'd lain there. Maybe an hour, maybe two, or more. He was perfectly content to run out the clock doing that in silence, but _she_ wouldn't even let him have that, it seemed.

"You know," she piped up, "if this is going to continue, I should have something to call you."

Why the _fuck _would she say that? Why did she give a damn? Was she just trying to name him like you did a pet cat?!

It didn't matter. "No. Don't you listen? I have no name."

"Everyone has one."

"I'm not everyone," he said. _I'm no-one_. "Now shut up."

"Don't you want a name?" she asked with sickeningly sweet innocence. What had gotten into her?

"_People_ have names," he informed her. "Not...me."

She was quiet for a while after that, and he thought he'd finally managed to shut her up. Then... "You're not very different from others," she said. Like she _knew_ anything.

He shouldn't have answered her. "I already told you, didn't I?" he said, his annoyance bubbling up.

She cut in with what he had been about to say. "You're not complete, right? You think you're not anything yet..."

"Just shut up now."

"Everybody is like that."

"Fine. Shut up."

"Why do you think people make friends? Or fall in love?" she asked. He took the pillow out from under his head and pressed it over his ear. But it was no use. "It's because everybody is already missing something from the day they are born. We have friends because they have something we don't..." she said wistfully, like she was remembering a certain friend, maybe. "Courage, strength, resolve...Each of our friends has something different that makes up for what we lack by our being around them. We all complete each other...

"Falling in love is like that too. The reason I want Ichigo back isn't a physical reason. I just want to be near him. You have to be with who you love so you can be happy, because they become a part of you. No, it's like they always were, and you just have to find them. So really, I'm not very different from you. Everyone starts out unfinished. It's only by making connections with other people that we fill the blank spaces in ourselves with their friendship or love...So if everyone else deserves a name, I think you do also."

"If that bullshit is true, it doesn't matter anyway," he retorted. "When you meet someone, you ask for their name because you want to get to know them. If you don't want to, then you don't get them to introduce themselves. I hate you and you hate me, so there's no reason I should give you my name if I had one," he said with finality.

"I don't hate you."

For the first time in their short history together, he suddenly felt like he didn't have the upper-hand. Because...because now she had leverage, _real_ leverage – because he _wanted _to ask her to explain. She didn't know it, so at least there was that, but she had him. She fucking _had_ him hanging on what she said, the manipulative little—

_Don't give her the satisfaction_, he warned himself. _Keep your goddamn mouth shut for once_.

Luckily – or maybe not – she didn't need him to speak before going on. "I know you don't like to hear it, but you _are_ a part of Ichigo. And when you're in love, you don't just love the parts of that person you enjoy the most. That's dishonest. To be in love with somebody, you have to accept every part of them...even if its hard to face."

_Shut up. Shut the fuck up._

"So I don't hate you," she said. "I...probably love you, in some way." The last part she said as if uncovering it, sadly, for the first time, even to herself. "Just don't get the wrong idea," she said seriously, "it doesn't mean that I'm attracted to you."

He didn't give a shit about that. He wasn't the least bit attracted to that scrawny, wimpy little paleface with the sickening flowery scent. But...

"Great. Good for you. Now _be quiet_," he barked, replacing his pillow.

"If you want that, just tell me what to call you," she came back forcefully.

"I don't want a name."

"And I don't want you to keep Ichigo away," she retorted. "So it looks like we're both unhappy. Unless you want to go now..."

_Not a chance..._

_Dammit!_

"...Getsu..."

Where did _that_ come from?

"What?" she asked, clearly as surprised as he.

"I dunno...Getsu, I guess."

"Why 'Getsu'?"

He growled. "I gave you a name, didn't I?! So shut up about it now. That was the deal, right?"

_None of her damn business_, he thought. He was mortified that it was even out there. Little bitch. She'd played him like a violin! Well, that was all she'd get.

She didn't need the reason, though, he guessed, there was one: _Getsu_, the moon. He was kind of like the moon, if he thought about it – which he never really had until now.

With all his raw power, Ichigo was like a black sun: he reigned over his Inner Hollow's entire existence – but there were times, times like now, when the sun set, and the pale moon would rise. But he was only holding the sun's place, it was never really his – he only reflected the sun's light, it wasn't his own. And eventually it had to go down again when the sun arose. He felt that happening in the back of his mind right then. Ichigo fighting for freedom.

He guessed...they were a lot a like, the moon and he.

"Okay," he suddenly heard, jarring him back to the moment. "Getsu..."

Getsu...

xxx

Getsu opened his eyes to face the King of this world once more, still scowling as harshly as ever as he waiting for an answer.

"Well?" Ichigo asked, "what happened?"

"...Nothing, _King_," Getsu spat teasingly.

Ichigo eyed his Inner Hollow with contempt before thrusting an arm out to point at him. "Well fine, just knock it off, alright?" he asked commandingly.

"What's that?" Getsu asked with a smirk. Though he didn't know what it was, he liked that whatever he was doing was making Ichigo sqirm.

"You know," Ichigo told him accusingly. "I want you to quit trying to scare me about Rukia. I'm not gonna stop loving her, so you can give up trying to make me."

Oh.

No.

_Fuck me_.

"I ain't got any idea what you're talking about," Getsu replied, forcing a grin. It did the trick. Ichigo huffed and tossed the Hollow a final, pointed warning before fading out of existence.

Getsu's grin faltered as he raised his white hand in front of his face. He watched in horror as, like a sand sculpture in the wind, the tips of his first two fingers blew away into nothing, disappearing...forever.

"You idiot," Getsu said to the absent King. "It's not you I'm trying to stop."


	35. Chapter 35

How come it was that, every time he returned to Soul Society after a long absence, Ichigo got into a fight with Byakuya?

Well, he hadn't yet, but he planned to. The only things stopping him were the thought of Rukia's disappointed expression which refused to leave him and clouded over his mind's eye, and the intense burning he felt in his left arm. It was like strips of seared beef had been plucked straight from a scalding frying pan and laid out on his arm as if it were a serving dish.

The two long, nearly-hissing strips spiralled down perpendicularly to cross thrice on both the top and underside of his forearm, encasing it in a fiery helix brace. The seventh "X" lay on the back of his hand, mirrored by the eighth on his palm, in the center of which was set a small skull emblem, like the one on the end of Urahara's cane, but unadorned by flame.

Ichigo raised his arm to look upon the black bands which hurt him so, and for the first time since he'd arrived, began to rethink his plan of action. If _he_ was flaring up this much from the mere prospect of fighting Byakuya, would those bands really be enough to hold him off when they actually came to blows?

He decided to walk and think – just standing there wasn't getting Byakuya punched nearly enough. But his Inner Hollow continued to bite back, to rattle its chains and burn them deeper into Ichigo's flesh, yearning for release. Urahara hadn't told him that his protection against his darker half was going to go about its job so painfully. Damn, this hurt!

But as a new level of pain was reached with every brisk, purposeful stride, Ichigo revelled in the thought of making use of it to bestow on Byakuya...a thought, he feared, not entirely his. He bit the inside of his cheek to suppress the grin that was tugging at his lips – he didn't _want_ to enjoy this, it was just his responsibility as the older brother, and that was that. Byakuya had gotten his duel with Ichigo over his own sister's fate, so it was only fair Ichigo be allowed to return the favour.

Suddenly, there he was, the smug bastard – and of course, there _she_ was right behind, both coming to meet him – or head him off – before he could reach the estate itself. For some reason he'd hoped she actually wouldn't be around, despite what his dad had told him when he'd arrived at their house to find the man drinking coffee with Uryu's hard-ass father, without either daughter present.

Byakuya spoke first. "Ichigo Kurosaki, it has been quite some time," he said inconsequentially.

"Ichi-_nii_" Karin piped up, but Ichigo merely cast his scowl down at her and she fell silent. Her eyes widened and she seemed to stiffen, as if afraid to move, until—

Byakuya used his arm to sweep Karin behind him, where Ichigo heard a gasp emanate from as soon as she was out of view. "Please try to be mindful of the outflow of your _reiatsu_," Byakuya said harshly, glaring at Ichigo.

Ichigo bit back the apology his sister deserved. "She shouldn't be here in the first place. How could you take her away _today_?" Ichigo asked.

"She requested coming here, if you must know," Byakuya replied condescendingly. "She offered to spend the afternoon with me, and I accepted."

Ichigo was severely disappointed the next moment, when, though he punched Byakuya as hard as he could in the cheek, the man didn't stumble so much as one step backward, but merely closed his eyes for a moment.

"I take it that is my punishment for spending time with your sister?" Byakuya asked as soon as Ichigo's fist left his face.

"Yeah right," Ichigo spat. "You tried to kill me when I did the same thing, I'm not gonna let you off with just a punch," he threatened, and reached behind to grasp the hilt of his _zanpakuto_.

"I see," said Byakuya calmly, laying a hand on the hilt of his own sword in response. But before either man could draw, the reason for their impending duel sped between them, arms raised.

"Ichi-_nii_!" Karin yelled authoritatively, "don't do this! Not on my birthday!"

With just those words, and the tone they came in, Ichigo's resolve to fight took leave of him, but he wasn't going to let on.

"Karin—" he began forcefully, but she cut him off.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she barked, sounding nearly on the verge of tears. Ichigo deflated. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to see you when you came over. I know it's selfish of me to be here when you and Dad could have had a party for me instead, but..." she seemed to choke there. But a few tense moments later, with a stamp of her foot, she resumed, louder than before.

"But in September I'm going to University!" she said.

_Right_, Ichigo thought. _She's already eighteen. Wow. _

The _pitter-patter_ of teardrops hitting the ground below jarred Ichigo, and he had to restrain himself from putting his hands over his sister's quivering shoulders. "I just...I know that once I go to school, I won't be able to come here as often," she said dejectedly. "It's only four months away. So I just wanted to spend as much time as I could with—in Soul Society, before I go."

Ichigo thought about the person he was planning to meet just as soon as this confrontation was over, and realized, sadly, that he knew how Karin felt. He'd felt the same sadness and fear when he'd gone off to school, and even now, he took any chance he had to see Rukia, even on his own sister's birthday.

Damn.

He didn't stop himself from gently clasping her shoulders anymore.

"Okay," he said as gently as he ever had. "I get it. I'm not going to fight Byakuya, okay?"

She replied by ramming into his chest with a tight hug, and while she did, he took his chance to silently shoo away her companion, who obliged, though he seemed to do so begrudgingly. Then Ichigo pushed his sister to arm's length and looked her in the eyes.

"This doesn't mean I totally accept what you're doing, alright? I don't want anything serious going on, got it?" he asked her gravely. She smiled as she dried her cheeks with the heel of her hand, and nodded.

"Don't worry," she said, casting a glance at Byakuya, who was turned away from the two of them. "Byakuya's really formal. He's only hugged me once, because I told him to, and he only ever kisses me on the hand," she confessed, reddening. Even that small amount of information was enough to make Ichigo queasy, though.

"Whatever," he said, heating up a little himself at the prospect of a man's lips touching his sister. "Just be careful, and if he tries anything, come see me, alright?" His sister nodded, even though they both knew no such thing would happen. But it made him feel better to get the nod anyway.

He felt her wrap her arms around him again. "Thanks for coming, Ichi-_nii_."

"Happy birthday," he said.

* * *

Maybe he shouldn't visit her, maybe he should just go home before the pain got worse. They both knew the risks that came with him going anywhere in soul form, especially since his Inner Hollow had become strong enough to usurp even his human body. But Ichigo had to trust that Urahara's invention would work, if only because he needed someone to talk him down after not getting to hit Byakuya as much as he wanted.

Well, _talk _was a loosely-used term in this case.

But he'd thought the bands might cool down once he got away from Byakuya, not hurt more intensely the closer he drew to the man's sister. That had been a stupid guess. He knew his Inner Hollow hated Rukia as much as he himself loved her, purely out of spite, from what he'd been told. No, this wasn't good. It hurt too much, he feared the bands might just burn away. He should turn back, before anyone got hurt. He had to—

...What had he been thinking about again?

The couple's eyes connected as Ukitake walked by with Ichigo's fiancé in tow. She seemed shocked to see him there, even though it had been her who had hounded Urahara for the Hollow-restraining brace.

"Ah, Ichigo-_kun_," came Ukitake in his warm tone, bringing Ichigo forth to meet them. He bowed to the man. If anyone deserved that, he did.

"Hey, Ukitake," Ichigo said, though he couldn't tear his eyes away from the man's vice-Captain as he did.

He heard him chuckle. "I think we're _both_ very happy to see you back, Ichigo-_kun_," Ukitake said, turning Rukia's face pink. "Rukia-_san_, why don't you take a break, hm? I don't think I require an escort to the training grounds after all."

"But Sir," Rukia objected, snapping out of her trance, "I know you haven't been feeling well lately. I can still—"

She was hushed by Ukitake's tutting. "Please don't worry yourself so much, Rukia-_san_. It's a very nice day, I feel better already just being in the fresh air. Please, go have your moment, I'll be fine," he said with a grin.

* * *

They tried, but with all the abrupt stopping and starting, a moment seemed like an eternity with the time it took to reach. Rukia wondered what was wrong until a sharp pain in her shoulder accompanied yet another wince from Ichigo.

"Sorry," he said weakly, pulling away for the last time to clutch the hand that had just clawed her. It was the one with Urahara's Hollow-suppressing device wrapped around it. He seemed...angry at it, at his arm.

Rukia lightly played her fingers upon the bands. "Does it hurt?" she asked, stupidly.

"Yeah," Ichigo answered, his voice devoid of the sarcasm she rightly deserved. She loved that. "He's giving me a lot of trouble today," he griped, clenching the pained fist.

"Getsu..." Rukia whispered sadly, caressing the black bands. She hadn't thought Ichigo would hear the name, until...

"What?" he asked. She jumped in surprise and felt a little foolish. He didn't know about his Inner Hollow claiming a name, and she worried he'd think it was inappropriate, like she was becoming friends with it.

She felt sorry for it, and that was all.

She shook her head. "It's nothing," she told him.

Ichigo went silent for the time it took the temperature in her office to drop suddenly, enough to cause a shiver to creep up her spine. It wasn't long at all.

"Yeah, I guess it is, right?" The harsh words seemed to ring out of a cold metal throat; the kind Rukia felt like she had a second later, when she was pinned to the wall by a hand like that of a living corpse, wrapped around her neck.

"Getsu!" she gasped, a sudden throbbing in the back of her head letting her know that was a mistake.

"_Don't call me that_!" the Hollow that had overtaken her fiancé screeched. "You bitch!" he screamed, "I hate you!"

Rukia's throat tightened, though it had nothing to do with being held as she was. The Hollow still wasn't squeezing, thanks, no doubt, to her fiancé. But Getsu's voice refused to cooperate with his coldly angry eyes, and the unmistakable hurt that tainted his words of rage spoiled it all. His words weren't tearing into her with any anger. They were only proving that he indeed had feelings, and they could be hurt.

He was hurt.

She reached up and touched her fiancé's clammy hand gently, filled up now with something far deeper than the pity that she'd thought was all she could muster for the Hollow.

"What's this about?" she asked the man before her as he breathed through clenched teeth at her, chest heaving.

"It ain't about anything!" he bellowed, shaking her slightly, but with his grip still rather limp. "It's what Hollows do, that's all!"

"No, stop it, don't say that," Rukia found herself pleading as she felt her eyes moisten. She couldn't tell if she was sad for him or scared for Ichigo. If he flew off the handle now... "You're not like that," she said, trying desperately to talk him down.

"Don't lie, _Your Grace_," he spat. "We Hollows are all monsters. We only destroy and consume. We're animals. You tried to train one, but it didn't work," he said, his tone quieter, but searing hot.

"That's not true," she said, lifting a hand to touch his cheek.

_Snap_.

The hand dropped to her side. Getsu had broken her wrist.

Ichigo couldn't—

"Then why are you locking me up like one?!"

"What?" Rukia asked, powering past the hot pulsating in her wrist that was churning her stomach. Getsu lifted the arm he wasn't holding her with – the one with the suppression bands on it.

Oh.

The need to vomit flared up anew in her, either because of her broken wrist or her own boundless stupidity.

"Getsu, I..."

"Shut up," he said firmly, but still quietly. Then, with a rough shove, he released her, turning away. "You let me have a name like a person, but you muzzled me like an animal. Someone like that" – he scoffed to himself – "isn't worth saving. Maybe that's why I can hurt you now. I bet Ichigo finally came to his senses about you."

"Getsu..."

"...I have no name."

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

The fact that Getsu hadn't torn up Soul Society on his way out only made Rukia feel worse about binding him. It seemed he'd simply darted through Ichigo's portal back to the Living World without so much as shoving somebody out of the way to get there. He was changing...and she hadn't seen it. Not like she should have.

The Fourth made quicker work of broken wrists than she did of a cup of ice cream. But the pain lingered with her regardless, and if she was honest, she preferred that it did. She deserved all of it and more. The cool, still night in Karakura felt too good for her. She wished for a harsh wind to slice at her face, or an icy rain to beat down on her shoulders. _Something_ to punish her for what she'd done. But the night was quiet. And perhaps that was punishment enough.

As she made her way slowly to Ichigo's house, where she felt his _reiatsu_ emanating from like a lighthouse beacon, she wondered what she was even planning to do. It was _his_ aura she felt, after all, not Getsu's, so apologizing to Ichigo would only confuse the man, seeing as he likely had no memory of what had transpired. And if she asked him to let Getsu take the reigns again...well, she doubted either party would enjoy that very much.

Then she felt the switch: Ichigo's aura was blotted out as that of the Hollow replaced it all around her. Cold, riling, yet more controlled than a regular mindless Hollow's; less a boiling-over of feral instinct, more a simmering callousness.

She was surprised to find that she'd grown rather used to it, insofar as it no longer filled her with frantic terror, and she was actually quite thankful for it. It was going to be painful – she mused, not without a little self-deprecating humour, at her healed wrist – but it would be worth it. She had to fix things, even if it was between her and a—

No, it was that type of thinking that had caused this whole mess in the first place. She hadn't been fair to him. Sure, he'd repaid her unkindness by breaking her wrist, but Getsu was still something like a child, emotionally. He was lashing out, something she really couldn't fault him for, and with power like his, it made sense that it would lead to collateral damage. Kids broke their toys during tantrums, and he...

Rukia almost couldn't believe she was justifying him—it.

...Him.

However, before she could talk herself out of feeling sorry for him, the sight of him derailed her train of thought. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tentatively drew closer, wondering what to do, what to say...

...Why his eyes were white.

Ichigo?

The man began to close their distance, looking solemnly relieved. "Rukia," he called to her in his own voice.

Rukia froze. If he was himself, then the aura she felt was _not_ Getsu's.

Ichigo noticed only a second to late, perking up like a hunting dog who caught the scent of game in the air. His eyes widened as he started into a run, only to be thrown a ways back by an invisible force as Rukia screamed his name.

Sode no Shirayuki was free just in time to clash with the large, meaty fist of a Hollow with a fractured mask, through which peered an disturbingly human eye, black as coal. An _Arrancar_. Rukia fleetingly remembered when facing an _Arrancar_ meant squaring off against a uniformed soldier, but this one seemed to have only a tattered loincloth to its name, and its eye was wide and wild. This was no soldier.

She pirouetted out of their connection to slash at the fist, but her blows glanced off harmlessly. Though its mouth was obscured by the sickening, toothy sneer fixed on its mask, Rukia would bet her life on the maniacal grin its human eye told her it had on its face right then.

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki!"

As if enticed by the announcement of a show, a second _Arrancar_ appeared behind her, thinking it had gotten the drop on her.

It thought wrong.

"_Tsugi no Mai_, _Hakuren_!"

Without taking the time to form the usual ribbons of ice beforehand, Rukia released the avalanche of cold in the same motion that brought her to face her sneak-attacker. Its attempt to lead away spared its upper half a freezing, but with the legs suddenly locked in place, that meant very little. And Rukia was _quite_ fast, almost riding her sword as its tip skated across the frozen asphalt.

The beast's head came off before it could finish its roar. But Rukia fell before its echo left the air.

The first _Arrancar_ had blindsided her, and springing into a stand after skidding along the road served only to afford it the opportunity to sucker-punch her in the side. Air abandoned her lungs as she felt the right half of her ribcage crash into and catch on her lung. She managed a single, desperate swing of her _zanpakuto_ before the fire in her chest brought her to her knees.

The slash had been enough to graze the _Arrancar_, sending it a leap away from her. Just far enough so that she could detect Ichigo in her newly-cleared peripheral vision, bounding toward her, still in his body.

Then he stopped, to glare at her with black and golden eyes. Again he was the man who'd pinned her to the wall, who'd broken her wrist, and who hadn't been dissuaded from those acts for even a second. Getsu was in control once more, and Ichigo was not going to save her.

The man turned away.

The _Arrancar _let out the last sound Rukia would ever hear into the last night she would ever see, then rushed. Every step it took seemed a year apart, yet each was over too fast. It was all over _too fast_.

She let her sword drop, and her eyelids followed suit. She would soon be over...

Then she felt the _Arrancar _completely overshoot her, and time caught up with itself at just the right moment to bowl her over with the agonized roar of the beast from behind her. She spun her head around fast enough to hurt her neck, but what she saw then made her forget the pain almost as quickly as it came.

Ichigo – no, Getsu – had rammed into the _Arrancar_, and was swiping furiously at its masked face with his bare fists.

He screamed hoarsely to the rhythm of his own punching, and the _Arrancar_'s body twitched with each. "YOU—DAMNED—IDIOT! YOU—PIECE—OF—SHIT! CAN'T—YOU—SEE—YOU'RE—GETTING—YOURSELF—KILLED?!"

He wasn't talking to his punching bag...

With one last ear-splitting howl, Getsu ended his onslaught, punctuated by a final right hook. _Twitch_.

He fell away from the pummelled creature as if just then coming to his senses, his breathing all in his throat, sounding like confused, building screams. Maybe it was the pain from his bleeding knuckles, but whatever it was, it stopped as soon as he turned to lock eyes with Rukia.

She stood and took a breath, which caught for a second on the way down due to her punctured lung. "Why?" was all she could ask.

"That's my line," Getsu fired back, looking sour. "Why'd you have to go and..." he paused and rocked on his heels – "...look at me like that..." And with that, he collapsed. It hurt to run – it hurt to _stand_ – but she managed to make it in time to catch him anyway. She was on her knees, pushing his chest up with her hands after he'd slumped forward, so that he didn't take them both to the ground with his dead weight.

"Jeez, you're so heavy," she told him without thinking. Then, with a dry chuckle, some of the weight pressing on her eased away.

"You don't get to complain," he reprimanded weakly. "I just saved your sorry little ass." He stood, even taking the effort to bring her up along with him, and held her in front of him by the shoulders.

"I...thought you were going to leave," she said to his chest.

"_Heh_," he laughed humorlessly, "so did I."

"I'm sorry for—"

"Don't matter, so shut up," he commanded. "I'm gonna die anyway."

"What?" she asked, this time to his eyes. And in them, she saw fear.

"Looks like the King and I finally managed to agree on something," he said with his last bit of humour, before it drained away from his voice and face entirely. "But I guess that means I'm not the hole in his heart anymore. 'Cause we're the same now. Enough for me to disappear for good."

"What?" Rukia asked, sounding shockingly frantic to herself. "But how?"

"We used to be opposites, that's what kept us apart. But now I'm not the missing part anymore. I guess there's a place where I can fit...Ichigo's soul's putting him back together, and I'm just another piece of the puzzle."

"You're...going to be a part of Ichigo again?" she asked.

"If you ask me, that piss-ant loves you too much," he said, ignoring her. "There's always room for more of that shit in him, so I gotta take my place."

Rukia separated from him, scared of what she thought he'd meant. "Getsu, what are you—"

A wet ripping sound cut her off, and twin streams of blood poured from the corner's of Getsu's mouth. With a rumbling snarl, the _Arrancar_ behind him, who'd swiped its claw clean through his midsection, rose up. Rukia was too horrified to move as she watched her fiancé's torso tip as the rest stayed as still as the trunk of an axed tree.

Then, suddenly, he straightened back up, and a thick white substance exploded out of the gash in all directions to ooze down his legs. Then he heaved, sending forth a spray of the stuff from his mouth as his eyes began to cry it. It spilled over his face too fast, then pulled and stretched itself into the shape of a face of its own before hardening in place. The mouth it had formed, lined with exposed teeth, opened into a blood-curdling roar as Ichigo's hair exploded into incredible length behind him.

Tearing off Ichigo's shirt, the thing that had once been her fiancé stood before her: completely white-skinned, it had a small hole in the center of its chest, from which stretched six black lines, spreading across its chest in symmetry to look like spider's legs that bent up to mark his shoulders, collarbone and neck.

There were tufts of red fur at the base of its neck and on its wrists, which continued to clawed hands. Its skull-like visage was decorated with mirroring black crescents which curved over its dark, empty eyes, the tips of each disappearing off the sides. Two angular, front-facing horns, each marked with a thin black line, protruded from its head to point straight at her.

A Hollow in the shape of a man.

With a single slash of its claws, it bisected the _Arrancar _behind it, whose halves fell to the ground on either side of its foe. Then the Hollow stalked up to her, its breath rattling in its chest, but she couldn't run from it. It raised its clawed hand and drew a sharpened fingertip down her temple, but lightly.

Its claw came away wet with bright red, but none that it had drawn itself. It almost seemed to study the blood on its claw, which was the result of her head's earlier ride across the pavement. Then she heard a roar building in its chest, but before it could release it, she grabbed its bloodied hand.

"It's alright, I'm fine," she told it, unsure if it understood her. At first she thought it hadn't, and had taken her gesture as a threat, because it snatched her outstretched arm up with its free hand quick enough to make her gasp. But then it turned her arm lightly in its claw-tips, as if inspecting—

Her wrist. The wrist Getsu had broken.

How could the darkness of empty eyeholes look so sad?

"It's fine, it's not hurt anymore," she told it, and its attention was pulled to her words. It moved with the abrupt skittishness of a wild animal, but touched with the gentleness of the man she knew it to be. "Come on," she said, walking slowly away with her arm still in its hand, so that it followed without letting go. She reached a wall she could sit against and slid down, imploring with her eyes that it do the same. To her amazement, it did, taking a seat across from her without making a sound, and without letting go of her wrist.

She wasn't sure what to do next, she'd really just wanted to sit so she could get a few breaths into her one good lung without collapsing and sending the thing into a fit. It seemed very concerned about her, after all. Then a cool night breeze wafted by and she quivered, and just like that the Hollow had drawn itself close to her, cupping her in its arms like she was a statue of glass, and stayed there, seeming almost to...purr beside her.

"Thank you," she told it.

* * *

"Oi, Rukia," Getsu said to the woman who had miraculously fallen asleep against the wall beside him. He didn't care if she was tired.

The mask had fallen off only moments before, awakening him again to the world around him. He didn't remember anything between being cut and seeing the darkness fall away to shatter on the ground, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that, when he looked at Ichigo's hands...they weren't Ichigo's hands. The skin was bone white all over, as he could see without Ichigo's shirt on him. _His _skin.

Rukia stirred and opened her eyes to find him, and gasped. "Ichigo?"

"No," Getsu told her, hiding his disappointment. She was no doubt it shock at seeing him as himself for the first time: not only the eyes, but the white skin and hair – which he'd felt shed itself back to normal length not long ago – right down to the deep blue tongue in his mouth.

_His _mouth.

"Getsu..." she said, shocked. "But how?"

Getsu could hardly contain his elation. "Looks like that piece o' shit _Arrancar_ did me a big favour when he cut Ichigo's body. Guess my powers took over and saved his ass by making him full-blown Hollow," he finished, grinning. But Rukia didn't seem to share in his excitement. Whatever. "Looks like this body is mine for good now," he added, more to himself this time, as he opened and closed the fingers of his new hand.

_Now I can..._

Rukia sobbed. She had her face turned away, but he could tell she was crying, even as he pretended not to notice.

It was no use, though. He knew she was crying, and he knew why.

He could just cut and run right now. He should. It didn't really matter if anyone missed Ichigo, right? He'd had his time, a long-ass time, and now it was Getsu's turn. He could run away and never look back and do whatever he wanted for the rest of Ichigo's goddamn life. He could be _happy_.

...He wished. He wished he could be happy, but damn if Rukia wasn't ruining the whole thing for him. _He finally had it_! He had it all...everything he—

"Quit your crying," he barked at her, making her jump. "I'm not gonna stick around if you're gonna be so damned annoying – jeez."

She turned to him, and faced with her eyes, he nearly backed out of what he was going to do. "What?" she said in barely a whisper.

"You're too whiny," he told her as he turned away. "If you want him back so bad, _he_ can deal with you."

For the longest, greatest moment of his short life, Rukia said nothing. Then she cupped his face in her hands and turned it toward her again. Her eyes were all shiny from crying, and she didn't look half as happy as he would've thought.

"But you said you're going to die," she said almost...scared. "If you let go now, you'll disappear, right? Isn't this all you've ever wanted?"

Getsu thought about that for a moment...

_Fuck me._

"Not anymore," he told her._  
_

She sobbed some more, only this time through a smile. "Thank you...so much..." she barely managed, her voice was shaking so much.

Getsu forced his final grin. "Shut up," he told her.

* * *

Ichigo opened his eyes to find himself in what used to be his Inner World. Now, however, he wouldn't recognize it if he didn't _know_ for a fact that he was there: the buildings were almost entirely covered in hardened white, like thick spiderweb spun over the entire landscape, the weight of which was crushing the buildings they hid. Corners of skyscrapers poked out here and there, but that was all that remained of his Inner World – even the sky had drained of colour, and was cloudless and white.

His Inner Hollow had really done a number on this place since the last time he was here. He guessed this was a side-effect of him becoming so powerful lately.

How the mighty had fallen. Half of his white body had already blown away in the wind, leaving only his left half to stand in waiting of his inevitable defeat. His one remaining black eye stared blankly at nothing, not even taking notice of Ichigo's arrival.

"Getsu," Ichigo called, using the same for the first time. It felt weird in his mouth.

Without turning his attention to him, Getsu spoke. "I bet you think it's funny, right? I finally got a name – a _goddamn name_ – and then this happens..."

"Stop talking like that, will ya? It weirds me out to hear you all mopey like that," Ichigo said, drawing closer to his former adversary.

Getsu ignored him completely. "I gave you your body back, you retard. Why are you wasting your time here when you could be living it up out there?" he asked, turning what was left of his face to the blank sky.

"Because Rukia sent me here to save you."

Finally, the solitary black eye fell on Ichigo. "What?" Getsu asked venomously.

"It's not a trick. She wanted me to try to save you because of what you did for her," Ichigo explained, trying to listen again to the justification as it left his own mouth, as if maybe it'd make any sense coming from him. It didn't.

"I didn't _do_ anything for her. I don't care what she does," Getsu lied.

"Then why are you disappearing?" Ichigo asked.

"Shut up. Go away."

"Fine. She just asked me to try, and I did. So seeya," he taunted, turning away.

"You couldn't do anything anyway," Getsu told him. "You can't save me."

At that, Ichigo spun around and marched up to the half-a-Hollow, grasping his remaining shoulder. "You're gonna disappear because you're becoming part of me, right? Rukia told me. Well, what happens if I give you part of me instead?" he asked, unsure of the answer himself.

"What are you talking about?" Getsu spat skeptically.

"If I give you part of my power to get you back to normal, you'll stick around, right? You'd be just like the old man."

Getsu seemed to contemplate the implications of that, then used the remains of his mouth to grin madly. "If you give me any of your power, I'm not giving it back, you know. It wouldn't be yours anymore. And it's gonna take quite a bit to put me back together again. So then all that power's gonna be mine, forever. You know that."

"Don't say things before you know what you're talking about," Ichigo told his Hollow, who frowned. "It's not like I'm just _giving_ it away without anything in return."

Getsu tried to back out of the hold, but it was too firm. "Oh yeah? Then forget it, I'm not gonna be your lackey like the old man," he pouted angrily.

"I'm not going to give up that power for nothing. I need it to protect what's important to me. So I'm going to trust you with some of it, but that means you have to help me protect Rukia with it when I need to, got it?" Ichigo asked.

Then, against everything Ichigo could have expected, Getsu smiled at him. "You're a devious guy, King," he said, sounding excited.

"So you'll help me?"

"Guess I've got no choice."

* * *

Rukia's heart dropped as she felt Ichigo's _reiryoku_ do the same. So much of it when away so quickly that she almost thought he'd died in her arms, but then suddenly it surged back up again...though it felt different from before. Familiar, but different. Then he gasped and sat bolt upright from her lap, breathing like he'd just come up from an unassisted deep sea dive.

"Ichigo, are you alright?" she asked, stroking his back soothingly. Then he turned to face her and her heart seemed to forget a beat.

His eyes now shone gold where beautiful brown had been, but were otherwise unchanged.

"Sorry it took so long, he's a tough guy to convince," said her fiancé normally. "Oh, and he says sorry about your wrist."

She hit him with such a hug that his back slammed into the pavement below. It didn't even matter that she almost winded the one lung she could still count on.

"Your eyes! You really frightened me!" she told him through an uncontrollable smile.

"Hm? What's wrong with my eyes?" he asked, befuddled. She squeezed him tighter.

"Nothing," she told him, "they're perfect."


	36. Chapter 36

_Why today? _thought Ichigo as he cleaved a particularly ugly bat-like Hollow in half. He was sure everyone around him was thinking the same thing, though they all knew the answer: they had tempted fate. You couldn't bring so many people with so much _reiryoku_ together in one place so suddenly without _some_ Hollow catching wind of it. And where one found food, the others swarmed, until it was a true feeding frenzy. Himself, the woman who he shouldn't have seen until later that evening, Uryu and Orihime, Renji, Rangiku, and Captains Ukitake, Rose, Shinji, Kensei, and Toshiro had gathered for a celebration, but now found themselves in the heat of battle.

"Dammit, Ichigo!" he heard Renji shout from somewhere behind him. He spun around to find the man hacking away at a huddling of Hollows, looking severely peeved. "This is all _your_ fault!"

Dashing in to cut the legs out from under Renji's prey, Ichigo locked eyes with the man as the Hollow between them disintegrated. "Don't blame this on me, you bastard!" he screamed. He'd meant for it to be the prelude to a tirade, but was cut off by the thunderous sound of malicious laughter that erupted right after.

Renji and Ichigo barely had time to leap aside as the laughter blew by like a hurricane, shredding the Hollows in its path like leaves in the violent wind. Prone on the ground before him, Renji popped his head up to fix Ichigo with a hysterical expression.

"You invited Captain Zaraki?!" he asked frantically.

"Don't be stupid, of course I didn't!" Ichigo retorted. This was true. Ichigo had very specifically avoided even so much as looking at the Kenpachi for months. The man had clearly shown up simply to get his share of the carnage while it lasted. Whether he'd officially been sent to support them or just sniffed it out on his own like a dog drawn to fresh meat, Ichigo wasn't sure.

Ichigo sprang up and took off in the exact opposite direction of the howling maniac. Luckily enough for him, there were still Hollows in that direction to act as his excuse. He sliced away at them as he had the whole time, thinking, again, about how badly he wished to enter Bankai and end it all right then. But if he did that, he might just draw more even stronger Hollows to them. Nobody else did either, so he decided he'd follow suit and strike back the old-fashioned way.

_Why today?_

He heaved his giant sword back to split yet another Hollow in half, only to have it fall away in two before he even got the chance. He hastily redirected his swing while still in mid-motion as Rukia, who'd dispatched the Hollow herself, came sailing at him with wide-eyed surprise. She twisted in the air to avoid the sword, he twisted his wrist to avoid her. They both collided and fell in the pavement with a _thud_.

Ichigo sat bolt upright when his fiancé hammered his chest with her fist.

"You fool! Didn't you take the time to sense where I was? You almost killed me!" she screamed in his face.

"That's _my _line! You're the one who knows how to hide that stuff!" he spat back. There was no real anger in his words, just as he was sure there was none in hers. But it was a very exciting day for both of them, and with no other way to express it with all their friends around to watch, yelling became a useful giddiness vent.

Rukia had been about to yell something back, which gave Ichigo that much more satisfaction when he tossed her high into the air as Hollows approached them in front and behind. As he knew she would, his fiancé-projectile turned in midair to separate the mask of the frontal attacker with her _zanpakuto_, whilst Ichigo spun around, letting Zangetsu push through the chest of the rear assailant. As both beasts faded away, Rukia landed deftly behind Ichigo, before wheeling about to grab the back of his _shihakusho_ and make him do the same.

"You should have known I had this area covered!" Rukia screamed at him, completely ignoring how he'd thrown her. It hadn't been the first time, though, so he guessed she might just be used to it. "You were supposed to be over _there_!"

Ichigo winced. "Don't yell right in my face! I might decide not to show up later!" he threatened. But nothing was ever less believable, and she knew that.

"Your lies are too obvious!" she shouted back with a smile gleaming in her eyes. "Now get back to where you're supposed to be!"

And with that, she spun him back around to kick him in the rear, separating them once more. Despite the pain, he almost laughed. However, before he could even crack a smile, his face was punched by a fist to small to belong to a Hollow, and he stumbled back.

"Ichigo, you asshole!" he heard a small but rough voice say. It was Hiyori, dressed in her usual track suit. She had abandoned her pigtails in favour of tying her hair back with a single red ribbon, and made the solitary hair-clip on the right pull double-duty to hold all of her bangs neatly in place, rather than letting some fall free. It made her look almost completely different, and if not for the stinging in his cheek or her stray, fang-like tooth, he might not recognize her.

Holding his cheek, Ichigo fired back. "What the hell?!"

"I got all cleaned up for today, and you drag me into this!" she griped at him, before turning around to make quick work of a Hollow with her sealed sword.

"Don't say that! I didn't ask you to come help out!" Ichigo defended while swinging at a few more attackers. Suddenly, Love, in his green sweatsuit and unmistakable white _oni-_like Hollow mask, appeared beside his compatriot.

"He's right, Hiyori," he told her firmly but calmly, "you were the one who said to stop here."

"Shut up, Love!" the girl whined, "What was I suppose to—"

With a rush of what seemed like a sudden wind, Hiyori's hair suddenly fell out of place behind her, cutting her off. Her ribbon had vanished. A fire lit up in her eyes as she turned in the direction of the gust.

"Shinji, you baldy! Gimme that back!" she exclaimed, vanishing from sight.

Ichigo rushed past the crouching, green-suited Hacchi before he could finish apologizing for Hiyori's behaviour, and carried on his assault.

The battle lasted for a good twenty more minutes before the last Hollow was finished. Ichigo thought sourly that Kenpachi and his insane _reiatsu_ was probably the bait that drew the heavy-hitters out later on, dragging the battle out longer than necessary. At least the man had enjoyed himself enough to leave without the time to realize they would all be going somewhere without him later.

"Whoo..." Ichigo heard someone in the distance exclaim as if exhausted. He turned to find Urahara sauntering onto the scene casually as if on a morning stroll. If he wasn't so important to him today, Ichigo would have punched him in the mouth.

"Where were you when we needed you?" he asked the man irritably.

Urahara just smiled. "Making preparations at my shop, of course," he said, sounding devious despite there being nothing to be devious about. Ichigo hoped not anyway, for Urahara's sake. "I was just wondering where you all were," he added.

"As if you didn't know," Ichigo griped, folding his arms. They fell limp at his sides a second later when he spotted Rukia walking up to him. She'd spent much of her time protecting her Captain, and so looked pretty dishevelled. Ichigo took a moment to resent Uryu, who had spent the entirety of the battle in a protective bubble Orihime made, popping off bow shots in safety and comfort, and coming away without a hair out of place.

Ichigo jogged up to meet her and put a hand on her shoulder. Even today, of all days, he still didn't feel comfortable hugging her where everyone could see. He wondered grimly how he was supposed to do his duty later that day, in front of an audience.

His eyes were drawn to her lips...

Well, maybe it wouldn't be _so _hard.

He didn't know how or when they'd drawn so close together. All he knew was that, in a flash, he was being pushed away from her by a steely palm.

"Uh-uh," he heard Urahara say, "that's off-limits until tonight." Then, he felt the man dash away, carrying Ichigo along with him. From out the space between two of Urahara's fingers, Ichigo caught sight of Rukia being spirited away by Rangiku, mirroring Urahara and he.

_Why today?_

* * *

_That's the woman I'm going to marry. _

It was something you were supposed to think when you met _the one_, and you were supposed to think it right away. That's how you knew, right?

It had never been that way for Ichigo. He hadn't thought it until just then, while picturing Rukia as he waited tensely for her to appear. And when he thought of her, that's when his mind had said it, but strangely, not before.

Not even after he'd bumbled his way through a proposal he'd never thought he'd make before she came into his life, or even a while after. Theirs wasn't a _traditional_ romance, so to speak. He wasn't sure how many started off with the guy kicking the girl right in the back, but he wouldn't bet on too many.

He thought about that kid – that fifteen year-old kid – who started on the road to the most meaningful friendship of his life with a spine-kick, and mused about his naivete. How could that punk have known that, down the road, he'd end up marrying the ghostly intruder of his bedroom? And what would that girl say if she was told she'd be saying _I do_ to the guy who just booted her like that?

You said _I do_, right? Western-style wedding ceremonies confused him a little. Maybe he should have gotten more information before signing off on it instead of just letting Rukia have her way. What if he messed up? He was almost positive you said it. But did you have to say it in English? Or did you just—

Oh.

God, she was beautiful.

She'd always been beautiful, of course, even if he hadn't always seen her that way, but now, in her wedding dress – a dress made my Uryu, no less – walking toward him, arm-in-arm with Byakuya, she was...too beautiful.

Suddenly every man at the wedding, few as there were, was setting off his radar for being a sleazy ogler. Even those he knew to be in relationships, or to be stand-up guys, or to be his father. It didn't matter, because all reason had fled in the wake of her dizzying perfection, and now, as they respectfully watched her walk the aisle, each man in attendance took a moment of time in his mind's eye to be beaten senseless by a crazy, orange-haired jealousy monster. This was just for _him._

Yet he didn't deserve it either.

Seeming to drift sluggishly in the vast ocean of his fiancé's beauty, which nearly drowned them all, Ichigo's thoughts slowly turned from jealousy to fear. Not that he was getting cold feet – he doubted there was a single part of him that wasn't burning up right then – but soon enough, everyone would see them standing together. And the thought would dawn on all of them as it had on him mere seconds ago: what the _hell_ was she doing with _him_? It would be like putting a rusted tin soldier next to a pristine china doll. He was sure everyone would resent him for stealing something so precious away from the rest of the world without at least having the decency to measure up.

Because all at once his height made him too gangly, and his hair was obnoxiously bright, and too messy; his scars were like ugly cracks in a fine sculpture; and he was sweating too much. He was everything she wasn't, and she was everything he couldn't possibly achieve. They were 2+2 equalling 5 – they just didn't make sense. And soon everyone would realize it, if they hadn't already. This pearl, this masterwork of the human form, was about to be bound forever to a vagabond someone had dressed up in a tuxedo.

But she was smiling anyway.

It would be no stretch to say she looked like the happiest person in the world. Certainly the happiest-looking on the grounds of the Urahara _Shoten_, already full of smiling faces. He knew because he'd be the her biggest competition, except he could feel the dumbfounded look on his face betraying the sheer joy that was overtaking him.

And _he_ was the reason behind that smile. And if he could do that – if he could make _that_ – he guessed he wasn't all that bad after all.

Wait, there was one person who wasn't smiling: Karin. His sister – looking too eye-catching for him to trust in any man in the room besides himself and their father, in a deep blue dress that he wished he could have vetoed in favour of a nun's habit – had tears running down a stunned visage. Ichigo couldn't deny that it might be the amazing spectacle of his bride-to-be, but as her eyes followed Rukia's path toward Ichigo, he could see in them that he was wrong.

Why was she crying?

xxx

"It is not like you to dress formally for dinner with me," Byakuya pointed out, somewhat to justify the rather impolite staring he'd been doing.

Not that he could be blamed: his dinner guest had just walked in wearing the most ravishing blue gown, which reached the floor, with a length of ruffle trim cutting diagonally across the long skirt from the hip. The bodice hugged her quite closely, doing nothing to hide her shape, and it left her shoulders bare, without straps of any kind.

Her dark hair was still done up in the high ponytail in which he always saw her, but for once he found himself wondering what it might look like down, especially with that dress. Maybe it would serve to hide the bright blush in her cheeks, though only for the purposes of elegance – he in fact found her redness to be quite cute.

She kept her eyes on the floor as he spoke, then as she did. "I-it's...what I'm gonna wear to Ichi-_nii_'s wedding tomorrow," she squeaked.

As the staff had since filed out of the room to leave the two to salutations in privacy, Byakuya took his chance. "It's very lovely, you wear it well," he told her, though without letting his composed facade slip. He couldn't have that. Not here.

Somehow, Karin got even redder, and her hands, which still held the skirt slightly aloft, clenched. "Thanks," she told the floor, "my sister said so too."

"However, I doubt it will be suitable dinner-wear. I wouldn't wish to see it accidentally stained," he said.

In response, Karin shook her head, but still didn't look up. "I didn't really come here for dinner this time. I just – I wanted...um..."

"You wanted to show me the dress," Byakuya finished for her. But again her head shook.

An uneasy laugh tinged her voice as she spoke again. "No, that's not it. I was kind of...wondering...if you were going to go too."

Byakuya raised a brow, and though she couldn't see it, he was confident Karin had felt him do it. "To the wedding?"

She nodded.

"Did you wear this in an attempt to bribe me into joining you?" he asked, rationing out the part where it was nearly accomplishing the task.

Now Karin met his eyes, and there was something foreign in them. "No! I just...you're like my boyfriend, right?" she asked. Honestly, Byakuya rather disliked the word, but failed to correct her this time and kept silent. "So aren't you supposed to ask me to important things like this?"

Her tone was pleading. It was enough to sway Byakuya inside, though not the way she wanted. Were they not in the center of the main hall, he would have shared with her their first true kiss. So strongly did he wish to reassure her of his sincerity. But he did not. Not that he was ashamed of her, or of them, but their intimacy was nobody else's business, and was better expressed in a more private setting.

"I apologize," he told her sincerely. "But I will not be attending, and therefore do not require a guest."

"But why not?" Karin asked. By her tone, he could tell she had been expecting that.

"Their union is not something I wish to support," he confessed bluntly. It might hit her hard, but the sooner this conversation was over, the sooner she could leave, and the sooner his body would stop aching as he restrained it from everything it screamed for him to do.

"It's your own sister!" she bit back. She'd let go of the dress to clench her fists at her side in frustration.

"My sister is not the issue," Byakuya defended. He wished this would end. Showcasing her fieriness only made it harder to keep the purity of that gown alive.

"Can't you and my brother _not_ fight for a day? You did it on my birthday!"

"I'm not concerned with fighting him, I simply do not wish for him to marry my sister."

"Why?!"

"Because I don't much care for him."

"Because he's not _good enough_?!"

Byakuya's thoughts seemed to hitch. "Excuse me?"

Now tears were beginning to well up in Karin's eyes. "Is it...because my brother isn't a noble? Is that why you don't want him marrying Rukia-_san_?"

"Of course not."

"Then there's no reason you can't come!" Karin said defiantly, stamping her foot under the dress.

"I will not attend to celebrate for Ichigo's sake," Byakuya said staunchly.

"Then do it for me!"

Byakuya's mind went too quiet too fast. All the thoughts, all the prepared responses he'd had at the ready, were suddenly missing, and with them went his ability to speak. Finally, he managed to say, "What?"

"If it's really not about him being common or whatever, then you can just come because I want you to be there. Just come because..."

"Because...?"

"Because you love me, don't you?!"

Whatever Byakuya had been about to say didn't get a chance to be said, because Karin started up again without pausing.

"I know...it's probably really selfish of me to just assume something like that. Maybe I'm too young to know how hard it's supposed to be to say it," she said.

And it occurred to Byakuya that he'd never told her. His knees almost buckled.

"But I love you, okay?" he heard Karin say. "And maybe you just don't like to say it, or maybe you don't feel that way towards me, but if you did, you could _stop _thinking about it like you're doing my brother a favour or not, and just come because of _me_."

By the time he came back to his senses, Byakuya heard the front doors of the mansion shut.

xxx

Despite all of her anticipation over the past few months, everything about the wedding seemed unexpected to Rukia. Everything around her was a surprise, like she still couldn't believe it was already happening.

She certainly hadn't expected Byakuya to show up last-minute and offer to escort her down the aisle. In Western weddings, that was what the father did, but Byakuya was the closest Rukia had, and she heartily accepted. She'd fully expected him not to appear because of his disdain for the bridegroom, but now here he was, keeping pace with her as she approached her soon-to-be husband.

Ichigo looked unbelievably handsome in a tuxedo, his red tie making it harken back to his _Shinigami_ attire. His beautiful golden eyes seemed almost to glow in the fading light of dusk.

They'd decided to hold the wedding in the evening based on its mixed nature. Of course, any spiritual guests could have worn _gigai_, but it was more about Rukia herself. Ichigo Kurosaki couldn't very well be seen marrying someone nobody was likely to ever see again. Being a spirit, it was impossible to put her on the family registry of the Kurosaki, as if something came up, it might all unravel.

So this would not be the traditional wedding. Their marriage wouldn't exist officially, on paper; but in the eyes of anyone who mattered to them, and in the eyes of Soul Society, it would be as real as any other. She would be a real wife to a real husband. A man who, at the moment, was staring at her as if he'd just seen an angel touch down in front of him, making her face and chest warm.

She chanced to look around – moving only her eyes – to confirm that everyone was indeed staring at her as she passed. Surely enough, they were, all save for Ichigo's sister Karin, who instead stared at the man who led her down the way. They could all see how red she was, and that only made it worse. The only other who came close was Ichigo's other sister, Yuzu, who stood beside Captain Hirako. Judging by her redness and what Rukia had been told about the Captain, the girl was still coming to grips with the fact that she was the man's _first love._

But everyone and everything else seemed to fade away once she finally reached the end of a walk that had seemed to go on for days.

Urahara seemed to be a good Master of Ceremonies, although she heard almost nothing he said as she lost herself in Ichigo's eyes – though she got the gist of some sort of explanation of vows. Then the time came for the rings.

Kon, who had been given the duty of keeping the rings until the appointed time by Urahara and against Ichigo's wishes, seemed staunchly to refuse to part with them. He crossed his paws defiantly and turned his back to Urahara and the couple standing before him.

Urahara proceeded to pick the stuffed lion up by the head and give him a light shake, then tutted. "I see," he said, before turning to the onlookers. "Just a minute," he told them. Then he turned around, and Rukia wasn't sure, but she thought he shoved his entire hand into Kon's mouth, as there was an audible struggle taking place. Seconds later he turned back to them, holding the rings triumphantly in his hand, as he stuffed Kon unceremoniously in his coat pocket. Ichigo made a face, but as soon as the ring was in his hand, it melted away into astonishment.

She slipped the ring meant for him on his finger when he held his hand out, then accepted as she held out her own. The act of the band being placed on her finger sent a shiver up her spine, and she could do little more than stare at it until...

"...I love you, Rukia."

That was all he said. When she looked up at him, she at first couldn't see him clearly, as her eyes had already filled with tears without her realizing. She hadn't known what to say when the time came – there was just too much she wanted to say. She thought maybe Ichigo would inspire her once she heard his vow.

She didn't know why she'd expected any more from him. Or why she'd ever want any more than that. Ichigo was never one for speeches. And what more could she possibly need? What could be better?

Nothing.

"I love you, Ichigo," she said.

And they kissed.


	37. Chapter 37

Consciousness found Rukia with her hand already on the charms around her neck. Old habits were hard to break, and seventy years was certainly old by anyone's standard. Seven decades of waking up and feeling the same thing—

Except today.

Rukia's eyes shot open. Had it fallen off at some point in the night? She sat up and patted around to no avail before leaping out of bed, whipping the blankets aside and scanning the sheets with the scrutiny of a homicide detective. Nothing. She couldn't believe it.

The ring from Ichigo's Bankai was missing.

There was no reason it should suddenly come off _now_, especially given that the twin rabbit charms still remained. And she was always so careful with it, her most precious possession next to her wedding and engagement rings. She only took it off to bathe or shower, and always daintily enough that, were it a single thread from a spider's web, it still would not have broke. So how could one of her precious charms be missing?

Unless...

A calm washed over her, chased by giddy excitement. It was a rather morbid thing to be excited about, but it was years in the making. It felt odd to admit such a thing, but she knew it wasn't a one-sided hope either. And besides, he'd stuck around longer than most – longer than anyone else in his family – so, really, one could say it was _about time_.

After all, Ichigo hadn't taken ageing well. Not to say he hadn't _aged _well – he had indeed – but the rigours it placed on his body was something he found very unwelcome. Up until a while ago, he could always simply exit the tired shell and revel in the agelessness of his soul, for any soul with enough _reiryoku_, no matter how long it stayed pinned to the Living World by a mortal body, didn't know old age. The body acted like a sealed container, preserving the prime of life inside inside itself even as age ravaged its exterior. Only after being released into Soul Society would such a powerful soul begin to age, and then, very slowly.

But it came to a point, eventually, where excursions of the kind came with too heavy a price when he decided to return. Being tossed back into old age after blissful hours, sometimes days, in reclaimed youth would take its toll on anyone, Ichigo being no exception. Soon, going out wasn't worth the price of coming back. Every time he re-entered his body, it was as if age caught up to him to be relived all at once, and repaid its abandonment with a vengeance. She'd known him to actually rest in bed for entire days after a return to the flesh, because the aching was too much. And age having not at all lessened his bullheadedness, he refused what little healing _kido_ Rukia knew, preferring to take his own lumps unaided.

So in the last few years, it had become ritual during her regular visits to simply sit and talk, which was more than fine with Rukia. With the person you loved, talking was as easy as breathing, and far more entertaining. It didn't even need to be about anything, really. They'd simply ramble to each other until Ichigo became tired. He would apologize, she would wave him off, reminding him that his exhaustion would not be much longer-lived, and with a hug they'd part ways to do it all again the next day, if she was lucky.

And now all that was over. And she couldn't be happier.

* * *

The large sword at his back, with its comforting familiarity, was the only thing that kept Ichigo from feeling nearly naked in the short, sleeveless _kimono_ he'd suddenly found himself in. He didn't even get any sandals, and the dull grey thing looked like it was woven from hemp. He felt all the more foolish standing beside his sister, who had brought him over.

To look upon them now, side-by-side, one would be hard-pressed to correctly guess the older sibling between them. They both looked around the same age now, which was still fresh out of the teens, no more than a few years into their twenties. But the contrast between them that had once been in age now lied in style: Ichigo, in his threadbare attire, was like an urchin saved from life on the street by the grace of the woman he strode alongside.

Her short-sleeved _shihakusho _was different from most others in that it lacked _hakama_, instead extending like a _kimono_ nearly to her ankles. However, it couldn't be said to be a _kimono_ either, as long slits ran from the hip to the hem on either side, allowing a free range of motion in the legs, and revealing the bottom of her white _shitagi_, which was like a skirt that ended above her knees. Her bangs still parted the same way, but in the back her hair was now long enough for the single braid to almost reach her waist. The strangest thing to Ichigo, knowing his sister as he did, were the diamond earrings she was wearing.

"What's your Division, then?" Ichigo couldn't help asking, though he feared he already knew the answer.

Without looking at him, Karin smiled, but also blushed slightly. "Sixth," she said, adding _of course _with her tone rather than the actual words.

Ichigo had been about to take a jab at Byakuya, but thought better of it, and instead went with "Well, too bad that means you gotta put up with Renji", which he felt was safer. Renji was always a good insult standby.

"Renji_-san_'s really nice, Ichi-_nii_," Karin told him, and Ichigo felt his ears hop slightly at hearing his old moniker after decades.

"Yeah, well, it's still your bad luck," Ichigo insisted.

"It wasn't luck, Ichi-_nii_," she said, "Byakuya recruited me himself." At that, her blush deepened.

Ichigo's frustration followed suit. _What a possessive bastard_, he thought.

"Really?" he forced himself to ask with as little venom as he could manage.

Karin nodded. "I was originally going to be put in the Second Division once I came over," she explained. "But Byakuya looked like he was ready to _kill_ Captain Sui-Feng, so I guess she let him have me instead. The Commander didn't seem to mind either way," she finished brightly.

Jeez, she was hopeless.

"Uh..." Ichigo said after a while, to change the subject and get Byakuya off his mind, "...does she know we're here?" he asked his sister as he continued to scan the crowd, which was quite large and densely-packed. It was hard to believe so many people had died just that day.

Karin smiled. "I think so. Your _reiatsu_ is kind of hard to miss," she told him. As always, he hadn't noticed how it poured out of him, and suddenly felt even more awkward as they made their way through the circus of new arrivals.

It was a shame, because the embarrassment inflicted on him by his wardrobe, and now by his spiritual conspicuousness, was really putting a damper on the excitement he could have been feeling at being young again – and never having to go back into his old body. That was one thing he wasn't going to miss, though there wasn't much else to by then. He'd somehow managed to outlive each member of his family and most of his friends. Only Chad still remained of their entire high school class, apparently still able to pack a serious punch into his nineties.

Ichigo grinned at that. It would be nice when he could see him again too.

He was suddenly distracted from his search for his wife when he felt a familiar _reiatsu_ nearly eclipsing his own, and he knew it could only be one person.

"Cripes, reign it in a little, son!" he heard his father yell from behind him.

Upon turning, Ichigo found that Isshin Kurosaki looked the same as he had through his son's teenage years, except clean-shaven, and he was wearing a _shihakusho_ that was missing the tattered _haori _he'd always known to adorn it. He stood with his arms crossed and a wide grin spread across his face.

"You're one to talk," said Ichigo, who amazed himself by not shouting above everyone else in the bustling crowd.

"That was just to get your attention," Isshin waved off smugly, and indeed, the pressure Ichigo had felt against his own spiritual power had receded.

"Yeah, whatever," Ichigo said, not rising to the bait. One service age at done him was gift him with a heaping helping of common sense, which he was putting to use by not entering a shouting match with the old man. He peered past his father. "You didn't bring Yuzu with you?" he asked.

Isshin seemed surprised, then smiled with what seemed like pride. "Ah, no. She's—"

And suddenly, there it was.

There she was.

They all felt it. Ichigo's dad even stopped mid-sentence to face the direction it was coming from along with his children.

Apparently, his father and sister hung back while Ichigo rooted around for his wife like a boar hunting for truffles, because he was suddenly alone. More than that, he felt like the entire crowd had disappeared, because it suddenly seemed painfully quiet as he strained, wished, to hear anything from her.

Then...

"Has anyone seen my husband?"

* * *

_How _were they not kissing yet?

"So, what do you say?" said the familiar man in the unfamiliar clothing.

She couldn't help but play along. "That's a terrible thing to ask a widow," she teased, "my husband just died today."

He didn't grin, but stayed rather businesslike in tone. "Is that a _no_?" he asked, leaning in.

She resisted the urge to pull their lips together as she responded. "Well, I suppose..." she said coyly, watching her fidgeting hands, before turning up to look him right in the golden eyes. "...if you have a ring, I'll marry you," she told him, biting the inside of her cheek to stifle a smile.

Ichigo's eyes went wide with surprise. He immediately straightened up and seemed to search his new garment as if hoping to find secret jewelry hidden somewhere inside, but in vain, of course. "Uh..."

Well, now that was too cute.

Rukia put her hands on either side of Ichigo's face and pulled him down until their lips met. When the blissful kiss finally broke off so the couple could breathe, he took the chance to wrap an arm behind her legs and lift her up with him as he came to full height before they carried on making up for too many years of lost kisses. It didn't matter that they were in the midst of a crowd, like it might have so many years ago. It didn't matter if people's curious gazes were drawn to them as they passed the couple by. The only thing that mattered was that, at long last, they were together. Forever.

* * *

He'd barely had the time to take his tongue out of her mouth before he was yanked in the direction of the Thirteenth Division barracks. There, he met a quite tired-looking Ukitake, smiling away in spite of himself, who seemed more pale and hollow in the cheeks than Ichigo had remembered. One of his crazy Third Seats, the girl, stood beside him.

Where was the goatee guy?

"Welcome back, Ichigo-_kun_," Ukitake said, his bright tone betraying his weakened condition.

Ichigo gave him a low bow. "Uh...yeah," he said, as eloquent around the man as he always was. "So...where's the other guy?" he had to ask. It made him uneasy that only one Third Seat was in plain sight, as if the second was laying in wait, ready to explode out from somewhere with a crisis at any moment.

The girl beside Ukitake cocked her head to the side and let out a peeved "_Tch_". Ukitake smiled at this before explaining.

"Sentaro has taken up the position of vice-Captain of the Seventh Division under Captain Komamura, in place of vice-Captain Iba, who retired last year," he said, gleaming with pride. His and the girl's opinions on the guy's leaving the Division seemed to be night and day.

"Traitor," Ichigo heard her say under her breath.

"Actually, Ichigo-_kun_, I was rather hoping that you'd be so kind as to take the position in his absence."

...What?

It had been so sudden. Had Ichigo heard right? He wasn't sure, but the stunned expression on the girl Third Seat's face made him think that maybe he had.

"What do you mean?" he asked. His gaze darted from Ukitake's easy smile, to the Third Seat's slack-jawed astonishment, to Rukia's more subdued – and distinctly delighted – look of surprise.

Finally, Ukitake spoke once more. "I'm asking if you'll be my co-Third Seat with Kiyone here," he said, gesturing to the girl. _Kiyone_! That was it. He'd really have to get better at remembering names if...

"Shouldn't I start at a lower rank?" Ichigo asked, still stunned at the offer.

Ukitake chuckled at that. "If anything, you should start at a higher one, but I suppose that will have to wait until my work is done," he said neutrally, without joy or sadness, though the affect it had on his two subordinates was not so unreadable.

Again Ichigo felt his brain stall. "Ukitake-_san_..."

Ukitake's raised hand seemed to close Ichigo's throat right up. "Now, now, none of that. Everybody has their time, Ichigo-_kun_. When mine arrives, I'd like very much to know that my Division is left in capable hands," he said. When he noticed that none of the three before him were breathing anymore, he cheerfully added, "But that's not for a long while yet, so for now, you can be my Third Seat", and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, as if ashamed.

The three let out a collective sigh of relief in spite of themselves. Ukitake _did_ look a little worse for wear, which probably meant his sickness was slowly progressing, but as long as he stayed happy, he carried with him the amazing power to put them all at ease with just a smile.

So Ichigo would make him happy.

"Okay," he said firmly, then cast a glance at Rukia.

"It's no problem, Ichigo-_kun_," Ukitake replied to the question he hadn't asked. "My vice-Captain and Third Seat have been married before. There's nothing to worry about."

Blushing, Rukia gave Ichigo a firm, confident nod, before turning back to her Captain and going a little pink. "But Sir, Ichigo recently died. By the laws of Soul Society, we are no longer married," she pointed out. For a moment, Ukitake seemed bewildered, then howled with laughter until he had to cough a little.

After a tense moment in which Kiyone looked about ready to faint, he straightened back up. "Well then, we can fix that," he said cheerily.

As a Captain of the _Gotei_ 13, Ukitake apparently had the authority necessary to officiate weddings. Ichigo's family was quickly rounded up, along with their friends (of whom he noticed Toshiro, looking less adolescent), and Byakuya, who tagged along with Karin and brought some men he guessed were servants. Inside the barracks of the Thirteenth Division, Rukia was about to take her place beside Ichigo before she was tugged aside by Karin.

"Do you think you guys could find Rukia-_san_ a wedding dress?" his sister asked politely to one of the servants. One of them took Rukia's arm from Karin and bowed lightly.

"Of course, Lady Kuchiki."

Ichigo didn't register much of anything after hearing that. At least, until Rukia returned sometime later, wearing a more traditional, layered, Japanese-style wedding gown. To Ichigo's surprise, she was just as red in the face as she had been at their first wedding seventy years before. Conversely, the exquisite beauty she brought to the dress as she walked carefully toward him was entirely expected, but still, just the same as before. He wasn't sure she could look bad in anything.

No, the only real difference seemed to be that he wasn't nervous this time around. A few short, simple words from Ukitake and one long-but-not-long-enough kiss later, everything was right again. He was her husband again, and she his wife.

Forever and always.

* * *

_That's all, folks. Well, all for this story anyway. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. _

_The next Bleach story I'm working on is the sequel involving the children of Ichigo and Rukia, and Karin and Byakuya. But be aware that, before that, I may write some shorter, 10-20 chapter something is a pallet-cleanser, and also to make the time span between the stories more noticeable, since the stories themselves are gonna be years apart. Silly, I know, but I think it will work. Plus, my hyperactive mind seems intent on flooding my head with ideas for a Ranma 1/2 story, and until I write them all down, they won't stop cluttering my head. So maybe I'll do that first, but know that the sequel IS coming, I AM brainstorming it, and the ideas are already flowing. So keep an eye out, and Happy reading!_


	38. Sequel Updates

Hello, all. I just thought it'd be polite of me to give you guys an update on the progress of my soon-upcoming sequel to _After the War_, seeing as I've apparently left some of you waiting long enough to send me messages asking when it's coming. Don't say I never did anything for you.

The reason it's been months is because the idea I originally had for the sequel kind of scared me. I suddenly didn't think I was confident enough in my writing to make two OCs the main characters of the story. Being a fanfic, it just felt safer (with less a chance of muddying the brand) and more respectful if I stayed with mostly established characters for now. So the kissing cousins fic I mentioned before will not be the sequel, but may very well be the sequel's sequel. Sorry to anyone who wanted that 'cause I said it. It's probably still coming in the future, but not next.

So I started back at square one with all of you in mind, what you liked and disliked about _After the War_. After all, I never would've finished it without your kind reviews and ego-boosting hits of the _favourite_ button to motivate me. I truly thank you all. That in mind, I made the decision to place the main focus on IchiRuki again, instead of the next generation. I plan to do this twofold, but more on that later.

First, I figure I should tell you another reason I've not updated lately: I'd finally cracked the whole story after a few weeks of planner's block, when a literal wave of bad luck struck later the very same day, and my house – indeed, my entire town – was flooded and evacuated. Yeah, I know, right? An entire town of people had to leave, so we've been displaced and staying in a motel for a week so far. But I'm not telling you this for pity, I'm explaining to you a reason why I had trouble updating, is all.

But I got my hands on a new (very tiny) laptop and I've roughly plotted out the first 3 chapters of the new story, so I'm hoping they'll be up soon. The other reason I let you know about my situation is so you know that, if I stop updating in a timely manner at some point, you know it's because we're trying to get our feet back under us. So, sorry in advance for any late updates, should they occur.

Now the tidbits. As a show of good faith, I'll be letting you in on some details of the new story. I figure it's only fair since I'm temporarily bailing on the story I _said_ was going to happen and which you might have started following me for. So now, if it seems unappealing to you, you can ignore me and I won't have wasted your time.

Between Ichigo and Rukia's first and second weddings, there's 70 years of free space to fill, and I'm taking full advantage of that. So not only will IchiRuki get focus in the present, the story will also alternate between present and past, so you'll get to see Ichigo and Rukia's first honeymoon phase too.

My ByaKarin mini-arc was rather swiftly-paced out of necessity in _After the War_, so to those of you who liked it, know that they'll also be getting focus in the past, and you'll get to see their relationship develop more post-first wedding.

To those of you who disliked ByaKarin, I'm thinking of labelling each POV-change with the names of the characters the section will focus on. For example:

_Ichigo and Rukia_

_Present_

or

_Byakuya and Karin_

_75 years ago_

This way, it'll be easier to skim over the parts you like the least, and I'll do my best when possible to make the happenings of different couples not bleed into each other, so they can be skipped over if desired without leaving out huge gaps in story knowledge.

That said, I want it known to all of you that it looks like I'm really "opening up" this story more in comparison to its predecessor. It's definitely going to be more of an ensemble, with more perspective shifts to a wider cast of characters, and even a few new couples

That's all you get for now. I hope that makes it easier on all of you until the chapters are up, and clears up enough misconceptions one might have so that they don't feel cheated.

Also, feel free to send me your thoughts or questions in response to this if you want to. I love 'em to bits.

Seeya soon and happy reading!

-Rimshotstinger


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